


A New Model

by Cerdic519



Series: The British Revolution [8]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: 17th Century, Army, Battle, England (Country), English Civil War, Execution, F/M, Friendship, Gay Sex, Gloucestershire, Honor, Inheritance, Jealousy, London, Love, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nobility, Oxfordshire, Parliament (UK), Politics, Religion, Royalty, Scheming, Servants, Sieges, Stucky - Freeform, Teasing, Thirty Years War, War Crimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26405938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: January 1645 to May 1646.After Marston Moor the war has swung in parliament's favour but it takes much effort and a complete reformation of their army to secure victory. The king is beaten first in the Midlands and then the West, his final army surrendering at Stow-on-the-Wold not far from Stalwarton. The war to end all wars is finally over – but now what?Oh, and there is a death in the family.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, minor Thor/OMC
Series: The British Revolution [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809640
Kudos: 4





	1. Contents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lyster99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyster99/gifts), [mochiisoda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochiisoda/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contents page.

A.D. 1645  
_97\. Denial_  
_98\. Educational Experiences_  
_99\. A Princely Bargain_  
_100\. Savagery_  
_101\. Fateful Decisions_  
_102\. Naseby And After_  
_103\. Mopping Up_  
_104\. The Witching Hour_  
_105\. The Misfortunes Of War_  
_106\. Mistletoe And Whiners_

A.D. 1646  
_107\. Tightening The Screws_  
_108\. Sisterly Concern_  
_109\. Unless...._  
_110\. King's Move_

MDCXLV


	2. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January 1645.   
> Two prominent noblemen get the chop, as belatedly does the turbulent priest who helped cause all this mess. There is a happy familial event which makes Stephen Amerike that thing starting with the seventh letter of the alphabet and rhyming with brand-parent (ahem!), and some adroit political manoeuvring that secures the Commons the upper hand over the Self-Denying Ordinance. Also a certain nobleman does not 'coo with pleasure' at the application of some healing unguent after a particularly rough session with his Winter Soldier.   
> No he does not!

**January 1645**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Jamie looked suspiciously at the book his lover had just handled him. At least the soldier had the grace not to smirk at the nobleman's wrecked state; he had been particularly thorough in welcoming the new year in and even two days on there was a definite list to someone who was also clearly avoiding any sudden movements.

“What is this?” Jamie asked.

_“A Directory for the Publique Worship of God throughout the Three Kingdoms of England, Scotland, and Ireland. Together with an Ordinance of Parliament for the taking away of the Book of Common-Prayer, and for Establishing and Observing of this Present Directory throughout the Kingdom of England and the Dominion of Wales.”_

Stephen managed to say that all in one breath. His lover was impressed.

“Apart from a book desperately in need of a snappier title”, he asked, “what is it?”

“Another attempt by my countrymen to buy credit with yours”, Stephen said, “rather than just paying them what we owe them. It is a replacement for the Book of Common Prayer and your own Book of Common Order, a more Presbyterian version of the former.”

“They really think that that will work?” Jamie asked incredulously.

“You know what we politicians are like”, Stephen sighed. “And they are executing the Hothams; the son today and the father tomorrow.”

“Did they not claim they were just negotiating with the king for time?” Jamie asked. 

Stephen nodded.

“Unfortunately we had their correspondence which said otherwise”, he said. “Full details of their plans to hand over Hull to the king and the rewards that they expected – or rather demanded – for so doing. Condemned by their own hand.”

“At least they got the nobleman's death of a swift beheading”, Jamie said. “Better that than being hung, drawn and quartered.”

Stephen knew immediately from the tone of his lover's voice that this was dangerous ground, and opened his arms to the soldier who strode quickly across the room and into them before squeezing the nobleman so tight that he could hardly breathe. The nobleman knew full well that Jamie had in some ways feared capture more than death, and indeed he had been briefly tortured that one time he had been caught. Raising such memories always made the Scotsman said and they just stood there for some minutes until Stephen felt a familiar stirring from beneath someone's kilt.

“You”, he sighed, “are insatiable!”

“Let me take you upstairs to see if you can sate me then, my liege!” Jamie grinned.

The nobleman rolled his eyes at his lover but did as he was told. Besides, whenever Jamie got emotional he was extra rough, and who needed to sit down any time soon?”

MDCXLV

**January 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Some twenty-four hours later what was left of Stephen Roger Amerike was lying face down on the couch, scowling into a cushion as his lover stood over him.

“Thank you for bringing this over, Chatton”, he heard Jamie say. “I rather went to town on him last night and only then realized we were clean out of healing unguent.”

Stephen would have nodded in agreement, but any movement just now _hurt!_ Besides, he had very generously purchased enough unguent for both couples so they could damn well let him have some back when he needed it. Right now, he really needed it!

“My liege is a handsome fellow from the rear”, said someone who could have benefited by being somewhere else. Preferably in the next country!

“I will tell Fraser you said that!” Jamie teased.

“I will tell him myself when I get back”, Chatton countered. “A fiercely jealous man is a fierce lover, as they say.”

Stephen thought wryly that some men did not need to be jealous, fiercely or otherwise, as he heard Jamie say goodbye to the young steward. Then he felt his lover begin to apply the unguent, and sighed happily. He did not, however 'coo with pleasure' as someone later claimed. Honestly, why did he keep the bastard around?”

An untimely shift in his position sent a spike of pain up the length of his body, and as his eyes watered he remembered. Oh yes. The sex thing.

MDCXLV

**January 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Harry Vane has pulled another fast one”, Stephen observed about a week later. His new ultra-padded chair had arrived from Oxford and, despite the bastard Fraser smirking far too much as he had brought it in, was wonderful!

“You mean Laud?” Jamie asked. “I thought he was beheaded yesterday?”

“Beheading a churchman is not a good thing”, Stephen sighed, “but as I said like that new prayer-book, parliament hoped it would be another sop to your countrymen. No, the Lords have not only voted down the Self-Denying Ordinance but also demanded of Vane why Manchester's accusations against Cromwell were not being investigated.”

“How did Mr. Slippery get out of that?” Jamie asked.

Stephen shook his head at the nickname however accurate it was (very), but answered.

“He reminded them that an accusation against any House member was a breach of privilege” he said. “They will hope that he will win this war for them having been forced to resign as a member of the Commons, and once victory is assured then they might get at him.”

“I would say that they could not be that foolish”, Jamie said, “but then they are politicians.”

Stephen looked at him suspiciously.

MDCXLV

**January 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Jamie looked in surprise at the larger than usual spread for dinner.

“All this just because they are making Fairfax commander-in-chief of this New Model Army, as they call it?" he asked.

Stephen rolled his eyes at his sarcastic lover.

“I asked the staff to put on a special meal because of the other and much more important news”, he said. “Luke came over earlier. Anne gave birth to a healthy daughter in the small hours; both she and the baby are doing well. They are to name her Elizabeth after her grandmother.”

“Cromwell will be pleased, then”, Jamie said. “His first grandchild¹ as well as yours.”

Stephen smiled, then spotted it.

“We will attend the christening so she can see her grandfather”, said someone who was sleeping in a spare room tonight if he was not careful.

“And her godfather”, Stephen said pointedly.

It took his lover a surprisingly long time to get it, but the pleasured blush was still wonderful to behold.

MDCXLV

**January 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

They had an unexpected visitor a few days later. Stephen's cousin Peter.

“Harry Vane gave me leave to go home and sort a few things out”, he said, “so I thought that I would do the family thing and call in on you as I headed back to the talking-shop. And like the wise men, I come bearing gifts!”

“A belated Christmas present?” Jamie asked.

Stephen had to fight hard to hide a smile. His lover was a man in so many ways – one very large way in particular! - but he always got excited at Yuletide, even if that tended to involve leaving a certain nobleman unsure just when the old year ended, when the new one began. And for that matter, which way was up!

“I dropped in on Aidan and he suggested it”, Peter said. “You know how he has a share in one of the coal mines that are now all but in the hands of the Scots?”

“Yes?” Stephen said. 

“He has been putting coal aside for his own family over time”, Peter went on, “especially wise given how fractious cross-Border relations are of late, and also for you and your estate. I have several sacks in my cart.”

Stephen was touched at that. The estate had been fortunate to be at least partly protected from the coal shortage that was hurting the capital as the Scots turned the screws to try to get their money, but fortunately there was a large wood beyond Wolfstown which, although technically a royal forest, he had the right to gather three cartloads in each month through winter. And because the Hall was a relatively small place he had been able to make sure that his estate workers had not gone cold, even if they had all had to come to the Hall store-yard each day to prevent any passing soldiers from swiping their precious fuel.

“We thank you for that”, he said. “Edward would in person, but Thunor came over earlier and he is still in his room, shaking.”

“That is Baldur's girl, the one you said was a bit forward”, Peter said.

“In the sense that the Pope is a bit Catholic”, Stephen said, “then yes!”

They all laughed.

MDCXLV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) In real life Cromwell would have to wait two more years for his daughter Bridget, who had married his fellow commander Henry Ireton, to produce his first grandchild who would indeed be called Elizabeth._


	3. Educational Experiences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January-February 1645.   
> There are peace talks but they get nowhere, and Jamie's half-uncle the Marquis of Montrose continues on his triumphal path in Scotland. But in England the king continues to lose ground as parliament's New Model Army prepares for the coming fighting season. Meanwhile Stephen and Jamie are nearly late for little Elizabeth Amerike's christening because.... oh come on, why do you think?

**January 1645**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Jamie sighed heavily as he and Stephen sat in the study. The snow was falling outside, but not heavily and would likely not settle. The two men had been out for much of the day working on the footbridge over to Charlton; a large branch had floated downstream and damaged it, and the recent snows meant that the river was a lot higher than usual. If they had not had the thing dredged it would certainly have started flooding by now.

“Something wrong?” the nobleman asked.

“These idiotic news-sheets”, his lover said. “They speak as if Montrose is the only thing between us and peace, his run of successes in Scotland the reason why the king will not deal at the forthcoming peace talks.”

“So their reliability remains at the normal level”, Stephen said. “I doubt that the press will ever acquire a reputation for honesty¹, at least until the sun starts rising in the west!”

“Or alternatively, Thunor tells poor Eddie that she has changed her mind!” Jamie smiled. “It is depressing though, that Uxbridge talks or no Uxbridge talks, so few seem to understand that this king can never be trusted to honour any deal that he puts his seal to. I know people want to get back to normality, but with Charles Stuart that will never be possible.”

“I had hoped that Scotland and England might unite one day”, Stephen said, “but with this king I can even see your countrymen going their own way again. I am sure they could find someone related to the Stuarts to replace the king.”

Even as he said it the thought crossed his mind that the Scots would not have to look far for someone suitable. Not even beyond the doorway in this room.

“I hope not”, Jamie said, looking surprised at his lover's distraction. “Virtually every nobleman, Argyll and Montrose included, is distantly related to the king but there are no close relatives, plus there is the old argument over whether a woman can transmit a claim. I doubt that my countrymen would accept a female ruler after the dreadful Mary! And as everyone knows, the lords up there need little reason to start a war, one that might make our own down here look like a picnic!”

“Unless Montrose continues to crush the Covenanters and saves the day for the king?” Stephen suggested.

“I doubt that even he can do that”, Jamie said. “Not so much militarily – he has shown himself exceptionally gifted in that field – but he has little political skill so could be beaten that way.”

Stephen could not but agree.

MDCXLV

**January 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Vane managed to get his Self-Denying Ordinance passed”, Stephen told Jamie the very next day. 

The soldier sighed and stared out of the window. The snow had indeed not settled and was now coming down as sleet, being blown almost horizontal by the strong wind.

“So Fairfax will have his Cromwell”, he said. “Are you not getting changed yet?”

Stephen looked at his watch and nodded.

“I had better”, he said. “I wish that we had better weather for my first grandchild's – and your first godchild's – christening, but the important thing is that she is healthy.”

“Anne was surprised that her father remembered to send a gift”, Jamie remarked. “She said how terrible he is at such things, but I suppose his wife reminded him especially as the girl is named in her honour. A pity he cannot be here but he is raising men in his native Fens for this New Model Army.”

“Or 'The New Noddle' as its enemies call it”, Stephen said with a smile.

“As I have said before, do not underestimate the power of discipline against a rabble like the king's army is fast becoming”, Jamie said. “Are you that unwilling to go to this thing?”

“No!” Stephen said, a little too quickly. “It is just.... my first grandchild.”

Jamie looked at him. Stephen gulped.

“We need to be off in ten minutes!” he exclaimed.

“Then I had better help you get changed!” Jamie grinned. “Upstairs, my liege!”

He fairly raced out of the room, with Stephen in hot pursuit.

MDCXLV

It was worth the epic eye-roll that they got from Luke when they arrived a few(ish) minutes late to the church. Besides, the boy looked terrified later when he saw Jamie conversing with his wife, and begged his father to stop him. No way; if Stephen had to suffer the insatiable rogue's attentions – and Lord help him when the new godfather got him back to the Hall! – then his son could damn well suffer the side-effects. That was what family was for, after all!

Yes it _was!_

MDCXLV

**February 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Jamie sighed as he read the news from his homeland. It was another bitterly cold day and, as they had no duties that morning, they were lazing in bed. 

Well, Jamie was lazing. A certain nobleman was still trying to find some position that did not make his eyes water, whimpering at every movement!

“Again?” Stephen yawned, looking suspiciously at his lover. 

Jamie smirked. He preferred to take the lead in their couplings, but there was always pleasure in using special occasions to either let rip or, very rarely, be on the receiving end. Especially because his forgetful lover always thought that that would mean him being in charge, only to find out that having orgasm after orgasm pulled out of your body did not equate to being 'in charge' of anything – up to and including one's own legs!

“You can go off people, you know!” Stephen grumbled.

“You will need me to fetch food for you today”, Jamie grinned brightly. “Unless you are planning to attempt the stairs some time today?”

Stephen shuddered at such a dreadful prospect. 

“Montrose?” he promoted again.

His lover nodded.

“He has worsted the armies sent after them at Inverlochy, near Fort William and in the shadow of Ben Nevis”, he said. “They tried the old pincer movement on him again, only for him to again turn on one of the pincers and crush it. I wonder what Baillie will do now; he on his own has not that many more men that my half-uncle, and we all know that success breeds success. More of the clans might join the king's cause now.”

Stephen looked curiously at him.

“You have ever thought of joining him in his travels?” he asked.

“I still do not think that he can make a difference”, Jamie sighed, “and as I said, I fear that his efforts are doomed one way or another. No, once spring arrives we shall see this New Model Army launched against Oxford, and I am fairly sure the king will be beaten sooner rather than later. But then we have to win the peace, and as I know from my life with a mighty weapon, that can he harder than winning the war.”

Stephen nodded.

“So let me use my own mighty weapon on you, my liege!”

The nobleman scowled. In his current state he was not fit for anything like..... like.... oh no! Not again!

MDCXLV

Stephen did not get downstairs at all that day!

MDCXLV

**February 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Good news”, Stephen smiled as his lover came in, the nobleman leering unashamedly at those muscular legs beneath that kilt. 

Jamie marched over to the blazing fire, turned his back on it and raised his kilt, grinning at his lover's hungry look.

“Let me burn my bannocks first then I can warm the Buckmaster inside of you, my liege”, he smiled. “What good news?”

“We have resupplied the port of Melcombe, in Dorsetshire”, Stephen said, maybe shuddering slightly at his lover's words. “I have been pressing Vane to get some men for that area; if we can secure the twin ports and Dorchester, then we can link up with Lyme and the king will have to divert more men south to deal with the threat.”

“Weymouth and Melcombe have long been rivals”, Jamie said. “We have quite a lot of that in the Three Kingdoms, pairs of towns which could work together but, for one reason or another, hate each other. There were Manchester and Salford during Rupert's peregrinations last year.”

“Not many soldiers would use a long word like that”, Stephen smiled.

Jamie just looked at him. Stephen gulped.

“What?” he asked in what was not a high-pitched voice.

“Remember when you set up that school in Wolfstown last year?”

Stephen did not see any connection there. He had not actually set up the place; it had been one of many dame schools run by a local woman who had had several estate workers wanting to send her children in for a basic education, and the nobleman had agreed to pay for a second woman and the refurbishment of a room at the back of the dame's house.

“Yes?” he said.

“And I marked the occasion by purchasing a teacher's cape and mortar-board?” 

“Yes..... oh!”

Suddenly Stephen got it. That he was about to get an education in every sense of the word!

MDCXLV

**February 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Well, the Uxbridge talks collapsed”, Stephen said, looking out of the study window. “And the sky is still blue.”

Jamie chuckled.

“This king's ability to delude himself seems to surprise far too many people”, he said. “He has lost the north and is hopelessly outnumbered in the south, but still he believes that God will not allow rebels and traitors to prosper. Yet the rebels and traitors are prospering.”

“He should have risked an attack on London after Edgehill after all”, Stephen said.

“Hindsight is a wonderful thing”, Jamie said. “So brilliant at solving every problem on the battlefield, or at least it will be once someone invents a time-machine!” 

“And the king should be getting much the same news as we are now”, Stephen said. “Although I would wager a pound to a penny that he will digest the loss of Shrewsbury as a mere trifle on his certain path to glorious victory!”

“He should not”, Jamie said, “since he is now in severe danger of being cut off from Wales. Hereford is his only real outlet now, and having to divert all new troops through there will only delay their arrival when the king needs every man he can muster.

“One thing does worry me, though”, Stephen said. “I have tried to warn Vane but he has not taken the hint, and parliament is seemingly determined to try to run this brand-new army through a committee. Which as we both know is never a good thing.”

MDCXLV

Just how bad a thing, they were not that far from finding out.

MDCXLV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Stephen was being totally cynical here. That's cynical spelled C-O-R-R-E-C-T._


	4. A Princely Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February-March 1645.   
> In both the south-west and north the king continues to lose ground, and his reaction to defeat threatens some potentially unpleasant consequences for the men of Stalwarton until an unexpected visitor comes to the rescue. Stephen plans a happy future for a friend while one soldier quite literally glides to safety – for now.

**February 1645**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“And that is why our keeping control of the Navy was so important.”

Stephen would have nodded in agreement with his lover, but he was not sure that was such a good idea just now. For one thing his head might fall off given the very thorough fucking he had just been on the end of, having been so stupid as to tell his lover the night before to 'be sure that I am up early tomorrow'. 

Stephen would likely never be 'up' again!

“Wha......?” he asked.

“Thanks to Warwick and his ships relieving Melcombe, the king's men have abandoned Weymouth”, Jamie said, eyeing his lover in a way that suggested someone's troubles were far from over. “They have withdrawn to Dorchester, so we have that land-bridge to Lyme if a tenuous one. Given that the king will soon need every able man to defend Oxford, I suspect he will likely abandon the county town aswell, leaving Sherborne Castle as his main base in the county.”

But a formidable one, Stephen knew. He had heard of the defences of that castle in a letter from Cromwell, who had been discussing what he thought his guns were capable of taking on and what they were not. The captain had been sure that his biggest guns could take the place but of course there was the problem of getting them there on this country's excuse for a road system.

“And there are rumours that the Prince of Wales is going to take a role in matters soon”, Jamie went on, running a calloused hand up and down his lover's still heaving chest in a way that made Jamie breathe faster again. “Quite what is unclear – the boy is not yet fifteen if I have it right – but he is very much in his father's image, I am afraid.”

Stephen nodded, then yelped as Jamie grabbed his cock and began to work it again. Ye Gods, his lover was insatiable!

He was so damn lucky!

MDCXLV

**March 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Meldrum”, Stephen said as he read his latest letter. “I recall you mentioned that name to me one time.”

Jamie nodded. 

“Sir John Meldrum”, he said. “A bit of a mystery man; no-one knew anything about his early life or his origins, which in the closed world of the army is strange indeed. About fifteen years my senior; we got on all right because unlike some I had the sense not to ask about his background. He was besieging Scarborough¹ on the Yorkshire coast if I remember. Has something happened to him?”

“He has had a miraculous escape”, Stephen said. “He has certainly made his mark in his war, securing Hull, fighting at Edgehill and arresting young Hotham before he and his father could betray us. Rupert trounced him at Newark, but then Rupert beat most of our men sooner or later. Was there also not some scandal that he was involved in last year?”

“That was when he took back Liverpool”, Jamie said. “Yes, your friends in parliament were less than happy as they had just issued an edict that all Irishmen taken prisoner – and that included English soldiers brought back to fight for the king – were to be executed. Meldrum 'claimed' that the news of this reached him a day too late which I am pretty sure was rot, but he had just won a major victory so it was 'overlooked'.

Stephen smiled at the quotation marks that he could hear in his friend's voice.

“Well, he has nearly been killed at Scarborough while trying to turf out that traitor Cholmeley”, he said. “He fell off the cliff that the castle is built on, a two hundred foot drop. Luckily he was able to use his cloak to slow his fall and he survived.”

“It is odd how things are reversed up there now”, the soldier mused. “It is the king's few remaining places like Scarborough and Pontefract which are preventing our troops in the north from coming south, like Hull did to the king's at the start of this mess.”

“We can only hope that 'The New Noddle' surprises the king and brings an end to this nightmare”, Stephen said. “Although as you said, securing a peace settlement will likely be just as hard as winning the war.”

“Harder”, Jamie said. “But then, I am an expert at things being harder.”

Stephen felt quite entitled to roll his eyes at his lover for that. So Jamie took him upstairs and used the Buckmaster to 'drive home' his argument.

_Three. Damn. Times!_

MDCXLV

**March 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stalwarton Hall was connected to the solitary road leading into and out of the village of the same name some little way east of where the estate cottages began, and the entrance was marked by a small gatehouse. The gatekeeper, a morose fellow called Michaels, was not far from retirement and wished to move to be with his sister over in Bicester. Stephen had promised him an allowance and a cottage in the village for him and his family if he stayed on for a while as he had decided to ask Fraser to be his successor. Their elder steward would be sixty then and, as Jamie had rather unsubtly pointed out, the gatehouse was fairly isolated so there would be no-one to hear his screams when Chatton had his way with him.

Unsubtly but accurately.

The nobleman, perhaps unwisely, had made a comment that some men were indeed quite insatiable, and Jamie had marched him upstairs in an attempt to 'fuck the sass right out of him'. Stephen was still (fairly) sure that such a thing was impossible but he had enjoyed his lover's attempts to try it, even if certain body parts had (again) been left wrecked by the attempt.

MDCXLV

Some visitors to the Hall took the more discreet option of coming through Charlton and over the footbridge, where the slope of the ground meant that the path past the church was largely hidden from the village. And one such arrived later that day – someone who had both men bowing deeply.

The Prince of Wales looked around the reception room and nodded approvingly.

“You have good taste, gentlemen”, he said. “I must be brief; my father is aware of my being here and is as you might imagine far from happy, especially given his latest plans of which you may be aware.”

“We have heard rumours, your royal highness”, Stephen said.

“He believes that the situation in the West can be improved by establishing a court there in my name”, the boy sighed. “He is wrong of course; it is all quite hopeless but go I must. Which is why I am here today.”

Both men looked at him in confusion. 

“My father's court is a place of constant intrigue and back-stabbing”, the prince went on, “and matters have only been made worse by this new court of mine. There have been many men who fully expected to be made part of it because they considered it their right, and hence many men who have been bitterly disappointed. That and the rumours of this new army of yours – I know that some of my persuasion make fun of it but even they are wary of its potential – means that some in particular are looking to make up for their disappointment elsewhere.”

“Do you refer to one Mr. Anthony Stark?” Stephen guessed.

“I am afraid that I do”, the prince said. “A good fighter and a rare favourite of my gallant cousin Rupert, but a prideful fellow who thinks that despite his bastardy he might still claim this estate some day.”

“How could he do that, though?” Jamie asked.

The boy was silent for a few moments.

“I have been thinking”, he said at last. “Years from now, when all this is behind us, I hope to be king. But that will require an acceptance that things can never be the same again. There will have to be an understanding, if through gritted teeth, that things are best left as they are even if some men are still dispossessed at that time. As they say, possession is nine-tenths of the law. It is my belief that your cousin thinks he might somehow secure this place, then he would be more likely to retain it in any peace settlement. He is politically astute for a soldier, which makes him doubly dangerous.”

“You mean that he might bring a force of men to take it?” Stephen asked worriedly.

“I hope not”, the boy said, “but he is as they say an unchancy fellow. So I have instructed my father to have a word with Rupert. I have agreed to go west and obey my father in all things – but only on condition that he or his men to do do anything against you or yours, sirs. If they do, I will return at once.”

He looked meaningfully between the two men, and Stephen was belatedly aware that they were standing rather closer to each other than might be thought socially acceptable. He blushed and moved away slightly, earning himself a confused look from his lover.

The prince smiled again and placed a card on the table.

“I am sure that gentlemen as resourceful as yourselves can get a letter to me if needed”, he said. “I do not think that this contention will last much longer, although I fear that ending it will prove a lot more difficult than starting it was. As they say, peace is harder to win than war. I must take my leave of you both, otherwise the small army that I left at Charlton will be rushing after me in even more of a panic than when I left them. Good day, sirs.”

They both bowed as he swept out, then looked at each other in silence.

MDCXLV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Scarborough Castle would in fact change hands some seven times during the wars, and once peace finally came it was slighted (reduced to a ruin) to prevent it from ever being used again._


	5. Savagery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March-May 1645.   
> Stephen's brother Aidan pays a call, bringing news of family both near and far. Unfortunately the younger Amerike's fears about (mis-)managing the New Model Army by committee prove all too right, and matters are not helped by the Marquis of Montrose's continuing successes north of the Border. One soldier's luck finally runs out, while Stephen does not comment as to how whipped his young charge Edward Stark is because... well, just because.  
> Shut up!

**March 1645**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It turned out that the prince had done something else to help secure Stephen's position at Stalwarton, for two weeks later he and Jamie had another visitor. 

“I received a letter from the prince”, Aidan explained as he sat down, “that was on the surface very much just a thank-you for my role as a leading nobleman in helping to fund his father's armies. It was however very cleverly written, and in mentioning his departure it suggested that I 'could call on my brother the next time I visited Oxford'. I therefore thought it wise to take the hint and bring a gift for the king.”

Stephen wished not for the last time that they could just declare young Edward the rightful earl, but there was his devious uncle to consider. Not to mention the fact that the boy could not marry his Thunor (whether he willed it or no) for another eight years. Technically he could have done as girls could legally marry at twelve so only two years ahead, but she had told the boy that that would not be happening. And she had made him buy some new clothes as well!

He would have made an aside there about some men being totally whipped, but 'someone' would have smirked even more annoyingly than he usually did!

“Is there any news from home?” he asked.

“Quite a bit, one way or another”, Aidan smiled. “I called in on Mother the other week – yes, a dangerous thing to do as we all know! - but luckily she was out. As was poor Angus, although in is case it was passed out in his study!”

“Poor fellow”, Jamie said. “And he is younger than us, Ste, while your mother is fifty-five now.”

Stephen glared at his teasing lover.

“That is our mother there”, he said crossly. “I do not want to think about.... that, thank you very much!”

“From what was left of poor Angus, she is past thinking and well into doing!” said an elder brother whom Stephen no longer liked at all.

“Moving on”, he said testily, “what other news is there?”

Aidan grinned.

“I know that you will find my other news incredible to believe”, he said, “but John's wife has left him!”

“Lord preserve us, say it is not so", Jamie muttered in a flat tone. 

“What about his sons?” Stephen asked, shaking his head at his snarky lover.

“Alistair is six and Reginald three”, Aidan said. “Apart from the inevitable demand for money our brother said, and I quote, 'Ally in particular is turning into the image of me!'”

“Poor boy”, Jamie sighed. “Some people are doomed from the start.”

“He really is terrible”, Aidan said with a smile. “Why do you keep him around, Stevie?”

“For the hard hot sex when I walk around this place with him impaled on my horse-cock, I suppose”, Jamie said with a smile.

All right, maybe Stephen kept him around for the traumatizing your own siblings thing. The look on his brother's face was priceless!

MDCXLV

**April 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I wonder if those who authorize these news-sheets know that we can see through their lies”, Jamie mused. “Or does the censor actually support the king and realize that we all can?”

“What has happened?” Stephen asked.

“Montrose has raided Dundee, then escaped into the hills again”, Jamie sighed. “Of course to the writer of this verbiage 'the rebel army suffered significant casualties as it fled before the Covenanters.”

“You think that they are lying?” Stephen asked, surprised.

“We both know the geography of the place well enough”, Jamie reminded him. “Montrose must have come in from the north, sacked the place, then fled back the way he had come. Baillie clearly tried to cut him off by circling to the north - his obvious escape route - but was outwitted; they say that the skirmish took place south of the town. My half-uncle must have done the old doubling back trick and have gotten away.”

“And again succeeded in making the government down in Edinburgh look like fools”, Stephen said. “I would have thought that the freeing up of the Scottish army would have enabled them to have crushed him by now, yet he continues to run rings around them.”

MDCXLV

**April 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Blake again?” 

Stephen nodded.

“That man is getting a name for himself”, he said. “He saved Lyme against seemingly impossible odds, and he has held out in Taunton for some six months now. Although I suppose that it helps when the western commanders¹ cannot agree with each other...”

“You mean that they hate each other's guts?” Jamie asked with a smile.

“If the Prince of Wales can get those two to work together, he should try walking across the Channel to France!” Stephen snorted. “Thankfully their dissension has meant that the siege of Taunton has not been pressed as hard as it might have been, but even so all Blake has is the earthen walls that he has had thrown up.”

“Earthen walls are not to be decried”, Jamie reminded him. “Now that cannons can blast through stone walls, earthen ones are back in fashion in that they better absorb all that power. They may not last but can be far more easily repaired, and held as good as stone ones.”

“Unfortunately the prince is going west with Hopton, who may be able to bash some heads together and get things organized down there”, Stephen said. “Hence the decision of the Committee of Both Kingdoms to send a part of its New Model Army west and rely on local levies to bolster the remainder so it can move against Oxford.”

“Fairfax will not like that”, Jamie said. “He is more a battle commander than a siege one, and he knows that the king still has an army that could come to his rescue. Two, if we count both Gerard² in Wales and Goring down in the west.”

“Goring will be too drunk as per usual”, Jamie said dismissively, “and we can but hope that Gerard will not reach the king any time soon. I know that he is headed off to try his luck against Laugharne which means he has to cross Wales twice on its dreadful roads, plus Waller has seized Hereford which blocks his only easy path into the Midlands. A pity that some troops could not be spared for him; the place is strongly Royalist and I doubt that he can hold it. But perhaps Fairfax can force the king to an engagement before he gets here.”

MDCXLV

**April 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was nearly the end of the month when the two men received news of just how savage the war was becoming. And it concerned an act committed by their own side.

“I suppose that they will say this should discourage the Irish from sending over any more troops to the king”, Stephen said, “but surely there were better ways of dealing with it?”

“The religion thing”, Jamie sighed. “And after the massacre in Ulster, one can hardly expect Irishmen coming to help the king keep the war going to have a welcoming committee.”

News had reached them that a parliamentarian fleet patrolling off Pembrokeshire had managed to intercept a transport convoy headed for England. They had sorted the soldiers on board into English, to whom they had offered the Covenant, and Irish, who had been roped together and thrown into the sea. One hundred and fifty men left to drown.

This war was getting worse.

MDCXLV

**May 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I cannot believe that they have not stopped fighting on the Continent yet”, Jamie said. “And this French defeat³ at the hands of the Bavarians means it will go merrily on, especially with the Spanish in such a mess.”

“We have been fortunate in that aspect, at least”, Stephen said. “Any major European power would in normal times have been all too glad to support the king against us rebels, knowing that he would be forever in their debt as a result. Mercifully they have all had their hands full with each other.”

“Any news of Taunton?” Jamie asked.

“The last I heard was that Hopton had driven Blake back but he still held the centre of the town”, Stephen said. “One can only hope that we have enough men to drive them off and save the place; it may be small if not inconsequential but a loss would affect the morale of this new force. And that is something which we do not need before it has been tried in a major battle.”

MDCXLV

**May 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Thankfully the king's men fled when they heard the news of our approaching troops”, Stephen told Jamie a few days later, “which will give Blake plenty of time to reinforce his position and prepare for the next siege.”

“They would have done better to have just boxed him in”, Jamie said. “He hardly has the troops to start raiding or anything, and even if the place is astride the road between Exeter and Bath there are other roads. But then that is like Maurice at Lyme; once someone starts a siege they feel that they have to follow it through or they will lose face.”

“Better that than their men losing their lives”, Stephen said.

MDCXLV

**May 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Montrose has won _again?”_ Jamie asked incredulously. “How did they manage to blow it this time?”

“Outnumbering him three to one but he managed to hide some of his men using the ground, so their attack went in against the wrong place”, Stephen said. “And apparently a certain Sir John Urry has 'failed to return' after the battle.”

“If my half-uncle accepts his support then he deserves to fail”, Jamie said sharply. “That rat Urry will turn his coat many more times before this war is over and done with.”

“They say that most of the losses – up to half the Covenanter army – was in the pursuit after the battle, which went on for over ten miles”, Stephen said. “Clan hatreds I suppose; they have much the same attitude towards giving quarter as we had to those Irishmen that we threw into the sea.”

Jamie sighed heavily and threw himself down onto the couch.

“Not only do we still have the likes of Urry in this world, worse luck”, Stephen went on, “but I received news from the north today as well. I am afraid that Meldrum has been killed at Scarborough. Apparently his luck finally ran out, although the siege goes on.”

“We are losing far too many good men in these wars”, Jamie sighed. “But perhaps now our men have done their work relieving Taunton we can pull the New Model Army together again and throw it at Oxford. Surely once the king loses his capital he must know he is doomed?”

Stephen just looked at him, Jamie sighed.

“What was I thinking?” he said heavily. “This is Charles Stuart, God's anointed. He cannot fail.”

MDCXLV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) The hot-tempered Sir Richard Grenville (b. 1600) who had defected from parliament the year before, and his replacement as leader in the west, the irascible Sir John Berkeley (b. 1602). They hated each other fiercely and refused to co-operate on anything._   
>  _2) Sir Charles Gerard (born c.1618). A capable soldier, especially as he had had to go from helping Prince Rupert around Chester to Pembrokeshire, about one hundred and thirty miles on foot and on terrible roads._   
>  _3) Battle of Herbsthausen, fought near the village of that name which is now part of Bad Mergentheim, Baden, Germany._


	6. Fateful Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May-June 1645.   
> After a setback for the parliamentarian cause in south Wales the New Model Army closes in on Oxford, only for the king to surprise his opponents and fall on the town of Leicester. This however spurs Westminster to finally give Fairfax the free hand he needs and he moves after the king, but not before seeking out help from an experienced soldier nearby. Jamie heads north for what looks to be the king's last stand – perhaps.

**May 1645**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“The king is a poor general.”

Stephen looked up at his lover, in whose arms he lay. Jamie had been in the mood for some slow, seductive love-making that evening and it was blatantly unfair that that had exactly the same effect as when he was at his most passionate and intense, namely reducing a certain nobleman to the point where he could barely move.

Said certain nobleman still felt glorious, though!

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“This making Gerard hare off across Wales to tackle Laugharne”, the soldier said. “I know that the king has to defend his Welsh recruiting grounds – they are pretty much all he has now – but he would have done better to have kept him in his main army. He will need all the men he can muster for when Fairfax catches up with him.”

“I thought that Fairfax was bound to take Oxford first”, Stephen yawned, ignoring the smirk on someone's face which was annoying however justified ot may or may not have been (very). “And you know how it is with the king's supporters. They want to raise, lead and direct their own men, regardless of their master's strategic goals. Not that he has many goals left now, bar survival.”

“After Gerard's win at Newcastle Emlyn he may have more than we bargained for”, Jamie warned. “We underestimated the men at his command considerably; in the unlikely event that Goring can be dragged away from his cups, his and Gerard's men could make the king's army stronger than our own especially now parliament has forced Fairfax to detach those regiments to go to the aid of Taunton. If the king overcomes him now we would have nothing between him and London.”

“Then we must hope that Waller can at least delay Gerard at Hereford”, Stephen said. “And that Goring remains drunk, although I think that that is a safe enough bet. We are approaching the crisis hour of this conflict – one way or another.”

MDCXLV

**May 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Fairfax has been reported at Cowley, a few miles south of the city”, Stephen told Jamie a few days later. “Lord alone knows where the king is; doubtless leading his men around and hoping that his enemy wastes his men in a long siege.”

“Chatton was down in Oxford last week”, Jamie said, “and I asked him to look around the place for me. He said that he considered it very poorly provisioned; they had not ordered in any extra food supplies in the last few months despite several warnings that the enemy was approaching.”

Stephen looked at him in surprise.

“I thought that it was Fraser's turn to go down there”, he said. 

Jamie grinned.

“Chatton was a little too rough with his 'daddy' the night before”, he said. “Poor Fraser will not be walking anywhere, and certainly not riding a horse for some days!”

Stephen shook his head at his two stewards. They really were terrible at times, and.... and why was Jamie looking at him that way? 

Oh. That was why.

MDCXLV

**June 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen winced as he read the latest news,

“The king?” Jamie guessed. 

His lover nodded.

“He belatedly realized that Oxford was insufficiently provisioned for a siege so has decided to try to draw Fairfax away”, he said. “He has some ten thousand men while Fairfax only has nine thousand, although he is expecting both the Taunton regiments and Cromwell to join up with him. Hence the king has fallen on Leicester some seventy miles north of here, and sacked it.”

Jamie frowned. 

“And so we see the horrors of Germany brought to England, because the king needed 'a distraction'”, he said heavily. “I hope that Fairfax is as good at intelligence as they say, and has his spies in the enemy camp. The king may even try a dash for Oxford and offer battle before Fairfax reaches his full strength.”

“Not waiting for either Gerard or Goring?” Stephen wondered. “The Welshman cannot be that far away, and now that Waller has been forced to withdraw from Hereford he has a clear path through to the Midlands.”'

“If he yet knows it”, Jamie said sagely. “This New Model Army is an untried power, and has far too many conscripts with far too little training. The king might break it with a bit of luck. I wonder if he will try?”

MDCXLV

**June 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The answer came the very next day, and showed that the leader of the New Model Army was indeed well-informed of his enemy's movements.

“Rupert was overruled in the King's Council when he recommended going to Newark to join up with the garrison there”, Stephen told Jamie. “But it did not matter; the king's Northern Horse refused to march on Oxford so they are moving north. Even better, the king has lost a number of men after Leicester because they looted the place so thoroughly.”

“That was a common problem back in Germany”, Jamie remembered. “A soldier's pay is a chancy thing, so the chance to enrich yourself when you have a gun and the peasants before you do not is a tempting one. And then why risk a major battle and all your recent gains? The king would have done better to have controlled his men, but he seems to have little in the way of discipline any more.”

There was a knock at the door. Both men looked up as Chatton entered.

“A man from Oxford brought this to the cottage”, he said, “and asked that it be delivered to the great house. It is for Mr. Buchanan.”

Stephen was immediately wary. That had to mean that the communication was sensitive in some way, so much so that the sender did not wish to risk being seen communicating with them directly.

“Did the fellow wait for a reply?” Jamie asked.

“Yes”, Chatton said. “Fraser is giving him a drink at the cottage.”

Jamie opened the letter, read it and frowned.

“What is it?” Stephen asked worriedly.

“Fairfax wants me to help him with his intelligence gathering”, he said. “In particular, advising him on the king's likely movements.”

“But what can he do even if he knows that?” Stephen asked. “The Committee of Both Kingdoms down in London is still directing him, after all.”

“Not any more”, Jamie grinned. “He will not be officially told until next week but he had been tipped the wink that he now has a free hand to bring the king to battle.”

Stephen stared at him sorrowfully. He knew how much his lover missed the battlefield even if he hated some elements of his job.

“You must go”, he said, “but keep safe.”

“I will”, Jamie said. “Can I borrow Chatton? I can send him back once I know more of the situation.”

Stephen looked expectantly at the steward, who nodded. 

“Of course”, he said.

MDCXLV

**June 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The subsequent days seemed to crawl by, with very little happening and Stephen sleeping also very little. He heard from Oxford that Fairfax had lifted the siege now that both Cromwell and the Taunton troops had arrived, and was heading north in pursuit of the king. 

The day after that he was at least partly relieved when Chatton returned.

“Mr. Buchanan helped Lord Fairfax with his plans, and advised him to as he called it 'throw a net' around the king's army”, the steward said. “We knew that the king had sent for Lord Gerard and Lord Goring to join him; indeed Mr. Buchanan wondered why they were not moving west to try to at least meet up with Lord Gerard. Lord Fairfax's figures suggested that the king might be close to having the same sized army as him if somehow he did, so we had to know. Mr. Buchanan had spies stationed in his net around the king's army, and sure enough they got someone with a letter that said Lord Goring could not yet make it 'due to illness'.”

“The call of the king is strong, but the call of the pint-pot is stronger”, Stephen smiled.

“The king was moving north-east from Daventry when I left them and, I suppose, headed to Newark”, Chatton said, “but Lord Fairfax is close behind now and Mr. Buchanan is sure that he will run him down. He said he expects a battle any day now and sent me off. I ran into some ruffians at Silverstone but luckily I had my gun ready and they backed off.”

“Thank you, Chatton”, Stephen smiled. “We both owe you for this.”

The steward smiled shyly.

“Any chance I can borrow those Special Boxes that Mr. Buchanan keeps under your bed?” he asked hopefully.

Stephen shook his head at him.

“You do know that Fraser turned fifty-six last month?” he asked with a smile. “I quite think that he would wish to see fifty-seven!”

“Not to worry”, the steward said confidently. “Mr. Buchanan said only to use Box Three if his breathing was still regular after Box Two!”

Stephen sighed at the saucy young fellow.

“You may go and get them”, he said. “And try to leave my senior steward in one piece!”

“No promises, sir!” the young man grinned.

MDCXLV

**June 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Time seemed to pass inordinately slowly, and it did not seem like less than forty-eight hours before Jamie was staggering into the house.

“I did divert via the cottage to pick up our boxes”, he grinned, “but from the screams I could hear even from the wood, I guessed that Chatton is not finished yet.”

Stephen pulled him into an embrace and hugged the life out of his Winter Soldier.

“Fraser likely is, though!” he said. “Well?”

“We won”, Jamie said simply. “Now let us get naked as quickly as possible so I can fuck you while telling you about it!”

Ye Gods, Stephen had missed even that from the rogue!

MDCXLV


	7. Naseby And After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June-July 1645.   
> Jamie tells of the dramatic events on a Northamptonshire battlefield, and not only the destruction of the king's army but also the capture of his private (and highly incriminating) correspondence. But in the aftermath of the battle there are still problems; some Royalist outposts cling on while up in Scotland the Marquis of Montrose continues to work wonders. Although as Jamie says that is the Graham blood; he too always gets there 'in the end'.  
> Incredibly the Winter Soldier is contriving to get even worse!

**June 1645**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Some ten thousand years later Stephen lay face down in their bed with his lover still inside him, their bodies aligned perfectly as his Winter Soldier humped away almost distractedly. And still hard, damn the fellow!

“The battle?” Stephen reminded him.

Jamie sighed and wrapped his arms around the nobleman, as if he was trying to pull him even closer. Stephen let out a noise that would have made more sense coming from a distressed walrus.

“Our advance guard ran into some of their quartermasters at a place called Naseby, in the north of Northamptonshire”, Jamie said. “The king was actually out hunting would you believe, instead of racing for Newark as he should have been! I slipped into the camp to catch all the gossip and found that Rupert had for once counselled against a battle – wise as we outnumbered them by fourteen thousand to ten thousand – but the king preferred to listen to his wonderfully expert Bedchamber Brigade who said they would swat this 'New Noddle' aside.”

“But they did not”, Stephen said. Jamie nodded and kissed the back of his lover's neck.

“They positioned themselves well enough”, he said, “and as per usual Rupert's charge proved devastating, sweeping our left from the field. And also as usual, they chased them all the way to the baggage-train which they then tried to loot rather than, you know, going back and fighting.”

“You did say once that securing an enemy's baggage-train was important, though”, Stephen said.

“Yes, but not when you are outnumbered and cavalry are decisive”, Jamie said, thrusting away again and eliciting a moan from his lover. “And thanks to Cromwell, decisive they were. He used half his cavalry to sweep the Northern Horse from the battlefield, then turned the rest against the king's infantry. They had advanced and had had some success against our raw men, but once the horses got in among them they soon gave up. I left before it was all done but I would wager we killed about a thousand of their men, though we captured closer to five times that number.”

“And the king?” Stephen asked, his eyes watering at this renewed assault.

“Fled, though where he can go now, who knows?” Jamie said. “We shall have Leicester back soon enough – but I have not told you the best part yet. It happened just as I was leaving.”

“What?” Stephen asked.

“The baggage-trains proved important on both sides”, Jamie said. “Rupert was beaten off by our camp defenders and came back to find the day lost; I feel sorry for him as he is a sound fellow. But his uncle suffered a much more serious loss when we caught his train. We have all his personal correspondence with the queen – and you can bet a penny to a pound that there will be plenty of incriminating evidence in there!”

“Which parliament will not hesitate to publish”, Stephen agreed.

“The king would do the same were the positions reversed”, Jamie said. “War is a hard game. Talking of hard games...”

And with that he began to thrust even deeper into his lover. Stephen moaned even louder as he was once again claimed by his Winter Soldier.

He was so damn lucky!

MDCXLV

**June 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I might have known”, Stephen sighed a few days later. “We get the decisive victory we have been seeking for these three years – and someone has to go and mar the occasion.”

“What has happened?” Jamie asked, smirking far too much even for a gentleman responsible for someone being unable to find a comfortable position even in his padded chair.

They had celebrated the victory at Naseby _very_ thoroughly!

“Cromwell, being Cromwell, sent a letter to parliament after the battle”, Stephen said.

Jamie winced. There was no way that that sentence could lead to anything good.

“And?” he asked.

“In it he claimed for his humble soldiers the credit for Naseby”, Stephen said. “Nothing arguable about that, it might be said. But there was also an implied threat, reminding them that his men had fought for 'liberty of conscience' as he put it. In other words, not to try to enforce Scottish Presbyterianism on an England where there is now a body of armed men who are mostly Independents.”

“At least it is just between him and parliament”, Jamie pointed out.

Stephen shook his head.

“The Commons naturally had the vapours and struck out such an offensive phrase”, he said, “but some idiot passed the original letter to the Lords and they just sent it straight off to the publisher. All London knows now!”

Jamie looked at his lover curiously.

“You are no longer for these Independent ideas?” he asked.

“I am”, Stephen said, “but only as far as they can be worked into our constitution. Remember poor old Simon de Montfort¹ and King Henry the Third? The earl got the upper hand only to lose power when his baronial friends did not like him letting the great unwashed have a regular voice in parliament.”

“But as they say, the times they are a-changing”, Jamie said. “We are four centuries on now, and Mankind is moving forward. It is time that those great unwashed had their voices heard.”

“Just remember poor de Montfort, dismembered by his nephew in a Worcestershire meadow”, Stephen said sagely. “Charles Stuart tried to change things one way and caused a civil war. Changing them too fast the other may well propel us into another one!”

MDCXLV

**June 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Jamie looked at what his lover had just handed him with surprise.

 _”'Mercurius Britanicus'”,_ he said. “Our own side's news-sheet. Has something happened?”

“Not exactly”, Stephen sighed. “Read the front page.”

Jamie did so, then whistled through his teeth.

“How many of your fellow members dropped dead from shock when they read that?” he wondered. 

“They have already instituted an inquiry to find out who was behind it²”, Stephen said. “'Wanted, Charles Stuart, Traitor And Runagate³: he can be recognized by a stammer and an inability to speak the truth'.”

“Cruel but arguably accurate”, Jamie sighed. “This war is somehow turning even uglier.”

MDCXLV

**June 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen traced his finger across the lower part of his map, grateful that he had directions for such a small place.

“On a line from Poole to Yeovil, just about halfway”, he said. “There.”

“What is there?” Jamie asked, coming up behind him.

“We have suffered a minor defeat at a place called Sturminster Newton”, Stephen said. “Probably inconsequential, and it shows how strong we are now that Massey was able to operate what must be over seventy-five miles from his base in Gloucester. The Royalists in Dorsetshire managed to persuade some local clubmen to beat him off; presumably he was looking at securing the area for Fairfax's advance west. The king has only Corfe in the south and Sherborne in the north now, and we shall not be able to take those until we get our big guns out.”

He sighed as he felt his lover start to rut against his backside.

“Perhaps I need to get my own big gun out”, Jamie whispered, and Stephen could not stop himself from shuddering. Then the bastard got his hand inside his belt and wrapped it around his cock, and he definitely whined.

“Jamie!”

“What?” the soldier said with what was obviously fake innocence. “Just taking care of my liege, making sure that you are good and ready to..... come!”

And Stephen did, arching his back as he fairly blew under his lover's ministrations. His eyes watered and he was glad to have the familiar muscular form to help him remain upright.

“You do know that I will have to change my clothes now?” he asked with a smile.

“Then let me take you upstairs and get you out of those ones”, Jamie grinned. “Who knows – I may even let you put on some new ones before Round Two.”

Stephen sighed. Against all probabilities the horn-dog was getting worse!

MDCXLV

**July 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

There was more bad news the next day, and Stephen thumped the table in frustration when he read it.

“What now?” Jamie asked.

“I warned Vane about not paying our troops on time”, he said, “but he chose to ignore me. And now Scarborough Castle, which we spent many months and lives besieging, has defected to the king because the men we put into it had not been paid! Talk about a false economy!”

“You are only one man among several hundred”, Jamie pointed out. “I have been wondering; if the king is forced to abandon Oxford, will you have to go back to Westminster?”

Stephen shook his head.

“My duties are here”, he said, “to raise Edward ready for whatever horrors Thunor has lined up for him.”

Jamie smiled at that.

“And at least it should be easy to find a successor when they do call an election”, Stephen went on. “Whoever comes out on top in this conflict, they are going to be looking at seats like Forston for their placemen, especially one with only seven constituents.”

“You are forgetting; Jack Herald came into money and purchased the cottage next to his so his sons could move into it”, Jamie pointed out. “That means _eight_ voters have to be won over.”

Stephen smiled.

“I somehow think not even a fourteen per cent hike in the electorate will deter that many people”, he said.

MDCXLV

**July 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I do not like the fellow”, Jamie said, “but I almost feel sorry for poor Baillie up in my homeland. He is doing his best to deal with Montrose but the armchair generals in Edinburgh keep sticking their noses in. And making his job harder in the process.”

Against the odds, the Marquis of Montrose had won yet another battle. He had not been as heavily outnumbered this time because the Covenanter parliament had obligingly pulled away half of his opponent's army to create a second strike force for yet another attempted pincer movement, which had resulted in yet another failure. As Jamie said, at least they were consistent in always getting it wrong!

“And Alford, on the edge of the Lowlands”, Stephen said. “He is getting ever closer to Edinburgh. I still think that he will not be able to pull off the miracle that the king needs, but he continues to astonish.”

“It must be the Graham blood”, Jamie grinned. “It works wonders on some members of the family!”

He gestured upstairs, and Stephen just sighed at him. As if any problem could be solved with sex..... still, it was worth a try.

MDCXLV

Several tries!

MDCXLV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester (b. 1208). Having led the barons in revolt against his brother-in-law Henry the Third, the sort of monarch who made Charles Stuart look almost competent, he defeated and captured him at the Battle of Lewes in 1264. He himself was defeated and killed by Henry's son Edward at the Battle of Evesham the following year but in that short period he had called a parliament with full representation of the burghers and knights of the shires. Edward the First (acceded 1272) had no truck with this democracy hoo-ha, but in 1295 he was compelled to reinstate all his late uncle's reforms in the Model Parliament after which the lower orders had got their dirty feet in the door for good._   
>  _2) It turned out to be the work of Mervyn Audley and Robert White, two officers in the New Model Army. They were both let off with warnings but the news-sheet's campaign of vilification against the king and his advisers intensified, and in May the following year the government forced it to close down as it was considered too extreme._   
>  _3) Runaway or traitor._


	8. Mopping Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July 1645.   
> Summertime, but the living is not yet easy. Fairfax and the New Model Army crush the king's remaining army in the west at Langport and set about mopping up lesser West Country forts before advancing on Bristol, which Prince Rupert is trying to hold against them. And the king's private letters are published, exposing his crooked dealings to the astonishment of... not that many people, if truth be told.

**July 1645**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“You do not think that Goring can win, surely?”

Jamie shook his head as it lay on his lover's lap. It was another glorious summer's day¹ and they were both feeling decidedly lazy, especially as there was nothing requiring their immediate attention. 

“I ran over the maps of the area around Taunton when I was talking tactics with Fairfax”, the soldier yawned. “Goring has of course renewed the siege – the third attempt to oust Blake – but I hope Fairfax will reach him in time or at least like earlier this year get close enough to force a withdrawal.”

“I laughed when I heard Blake's response to Hopton calling on him to surrender”, Stephen smiled. “'I have but four pairs of boots left yet I will eat three of them before I yield!'. He should have just 'forgotten' a few barrels of ale outside the town; that would have kept Gorgeous George busy!”

“Cruel but accurate”, Jamie agreed. “Taunton is as the name suggests on the River Tone, which flows into the much larger River Parrett. That almost cuts the peninsula off and I am sure that Goring has blown all the bridges. Fairfax would have to march a long way round its head and I doubt he has the time, especially as Goring will be trying to bribe the local clubmen to slow him down.”

“If the New Model Army shows the same discipline that it did at Naseby, Fairfax will get there”, Stephen said. “This is quite nice, just sitting here in the sun.”

“Or we could go upstairs and test the new bed?” Jamie grinned, waggling his eyebrows at his lover.

“That was mortifying”, Stephen said, “having to explain to Ned over in Wolfstown why I wanted a reinforced bed. I was sure he knew just why, the way he nodded then looked across at you.”

“He made our last bed, which lasted pretty well considering all we did in it”, Jamie said, sitting up and pulling himself to his feet. “Coming?”

Stephen sighed. His lover thought of only one thing – but at least it was the right thing!

MDCXLV

**July 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The hot weather continued over the next few days and Stephen eyed the level of the river with some anxiety. He had already cut off the supply to the Hall's ornamental lake which was now an ornamental dried mud area, but the river levels were still much lower than they should have been.

There was also an unpleasant incident in which a number of Prince Rupert's cavalry rode into Hampton and announced that they were seizing fodder for their horses, only to be surprised that some of the peasants opposing them had guns. They were forced to retreat, and soon after Stephen received a stiff letter from the king's secretary reminding him that it was his duty to help the sovereign against the rebels and traitors of this country. He sent back that he might be inclined to send a gift of fodder for the war effort but that unannounced seizures might equally lead to the sort of clubmen-led attacks that were affecting both armies (although mostly the men of the king) across England of late. He subsequently received a handsome letter of apology from Prince Rupert himself, which led him to significantly increase his gift.

“He also mentioned something rather depressing”, Stephen told Jamie as they lay together than evening, both sweating profusely after their coupling. Even with the windows fully open the place was hot.

“What?” Jamie asked.

“He has gone to Bristol to try to hold it for the king, and bolster the position in the west”, Stephen said. “I am afraid that from what I have heard, it will be a feat even beyond him. Like Waller did after Lansdown, Goring has stripped the town of men for his own army so its defences, although formidable, are not manned enough to resist a determined assault.”

“At least the queen over in France will he happy”, Jamie said, “even if her own country continues to disappoint her.”

“That is something else to worry about, though”, Stephen said. “It seems that all sides in the German wars are finally – after nearly thirty years! - realizing that the fighting has solved nothing and that they need peace. Once that is secured then some of them may be in a position to help the king.”

“I doubt that”, Jamie said. “You know how fast politicians and diplomats move these days; it will be years rather than months before anything is settled. By that time the king will have been truly defeated.”

“And then what?” Stephen asked. “That is what is worrying me of late; then what?”

MDCXLV

**July 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“If only Goring had stayed sober he might one day be remembered as one of the best generals in this conflict”, Stephen sighed a few days later. “Instead of which he will be just another on the losing side who will likely soon be heading abroad for his own safety.”

They had just received the news that they had been waiting for, namely that Fairfax had won a decisive victory at Langport in the west. Given that the king still had several commanders with small, scattered forces in the area, the mopping up would take some time, but now Charles Stuart had no large field armies in England.

“I do not know who to feel more sorry for”, Jamie said. “Prince Rupert, who will soon be on the receiving end in Bristol, or Hopton, who will face the impossible task of trying to save the west. Both are good soldiers but both must know their cause is doomed now.”

“Not the king, I am sure”, Stephen said. “He will confidently expect Montrose to be victorious in Scotland and for those long-awaited Irish troops to somehow flock to his rescue. Because after all, he cannot fail!”

MDCXLV

**July 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen shook his head as he read his latest letter from London.

“What is it?” Jamie asked, yawning as he spoke. The heat had left neither of them able to get comfortable the night before, and they were both tired. 

Well, because of that. And maybe just possibly the two rounds of sex this morning. Stephen was sure that the main staircase was getting longer, not helped by some smart-arsed soldier quipping that he knew something else that was getting longer!

“Another letter”, the nobleman sighed.

“I thought that you would be enjoying _'The King's Cabinet Opened'”_ Jamie said. “He has pretty much confirmed all everyone's worst fears about his efforts to bring in foreign aid. About the only thing he has not done – or at least that we have not found proof about – is to try to get the Confederate Irish to help him.”

“No, it is another letter from Cromwell with that 'liberty of conscience' phrase”, Stephen sighed. “Written after Langport; someone leaked it to one of the underground presses and now all London knows that parliament tried to suppress it.”

“It is never a good idea to try to stop the modern press”, Jamie said. “The damage done when the story finally leaks – which it nearly always does – is so much worse.”

“It is what Vane says about Ireland that really bothers me”, Stephen said. “Parliament wants the New Model Army to swing over there and crush the Confederates once the king is finally defeated.”

“That was always inevitable”, Jamie pointed out.

“Yes”, Stephen said, “but it is what he does not say that also worries me.”

Jamie looked at his lover thoughtfully.

“Money”, he guessed. “This new and powerful group of armed men is already behind in its pay, and not sorting that out before asking them to head off to another country – they will not take it well.”

“The trouble is, I do not think that Vane sees that”, Stephen said. “And I must write back to him in such a way as to convey that without it looking like I too am being threatening.”

“Would you like me to fuck you while you write, like Bren does to poor Thor?” Jamie asked with a smile.

Stephen shook his head at the saucy fellow. It was an idea, though....

MDCXLV

**July 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“One of the things I admire about Fairfax”, Jamie said about a week later, “is that he values his men's lives. He always offers generous terms to anyone he is besieging, and even if they do not always take them it makes his men respect him.”

“Unfortunately the people of Bridgwater turned him down”, Stephen observed, “which is why their town got assaulted. That cuts off Devonshire and Cormwall; Fairfax seems as cautious as Essex in many ways but then he does not wish to either risk his men's lives or risk doing what his predecessor did and blowing the whole thing at the last.”

“And Cromwell was nearly shot in the victory”, Jamie said. “By a woman of all things!”

“A famous Christabella² in history!” Stephen smiled. “That is rare.”

“Fairfax's men have taken Bath, not far from Bristol”, Jamie said. “Poor Rupert's days are numbered.”

“Meanwhile his brother is still in London, waiting for the call”, Stephen said. “Oh, and there was also news from the north. We have Scarborough again; hopefully we will remember to pay the soldiers this time!”

“It all comes down to money”, Jamie said sagely. “The king's quasi-legal taxes helped start this mess, and parliament's failure to sort itself out may well prolong it. If only we had a monarch worthy of the name we might pilot our way out of this imbroglio, but for now I do not see how we will.”

MDCXLV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Unfortunately one of the last for some time as the planet was about to enter the Maunder Minimum. This reduced period of sunspot activity aggravated what was already a period of lower temperatures known as the Little Ice Age. You will find this hard to believe but scientists actually disagree on what caused it!_   
>  _2) Christabella Wyndham (b. circa 1600), wife of the governor Sir Edmund Wyndham. She aimed for Cromwell but instead killed his aide-de-camp who was standing next to him. She had been the wet-nurse to the Prince of Wales and, despite the thirty-year age difference, also that randy monarch's first mistress!_


	9. The Witching Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August-September 1645.   
> There are witches, or maybe not. In Scotland the Marquis of Montrose gains a major victory at Kilsyth forcing the Covenanter government to flee, after which he seemingly has Scotland at his feet. Meanwhile Luke brings more good news to Stalwarton, even if his recall of a certain 'educational' encounter somewhat embarrasses his father.

**August 1645**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“That is a first”, Stephen grinned as he read the latest news. “The king has managed to lose an army even before he formed it!”

“How so?” Jamie asked, curious.

“He gathered several hundred men in Glamorganshire”, Stephen said, “but they refused to serve under Gerard who, as we know, is about as popular as the Pope in those parts. So the king accepted their petition, let Gerard answer it in his own arrogant way, then removed him from office, and has since had to placate him with a barony. For some inexplicable reason this offended his potential troops and they all went off home!”

“Perhaps they also heard the news from further west?” Jamie suggested.

“You mean Colby Moor?” Stephen asked. “Another victory for Laugharne and a major one; he will be pushing into Carmarthenshire soon and threatening those recruiting grounds from the west. It is as you said; no-one likes to join a side that is obviously losing.”

“Except that the reverse of that is true in Scotland”, Jamie said. “They have the plague again up there I see, or at least that is the official reason for moving the Estates back down from Perth to Stirling. Certainly not because they are threatened by my half-uncle, dear me no!”

Stephen chuckled at his lover's fake shock.

“Parliament really should have allowed the Scots to move their whole army back to deal with him, rather than bothering about places like Carlisle and Hereford”, he said. “They will fall soon enough, especially if they get generous terms offered to them.”

MDCXLV

**August 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I would wager that many in parliament are annoyed that Fairfax is so careful”, Jamie said, “but he was right to deal with Sherborne before turning to Bristol. That gives him a solid area behind him with no chance of any distractions.”

“Especially after Cromwell routed those clubmen who dared to challenge him”, Stephen agreed.

They had taken advantage of the good weather to do some outdoors work around the estate and had both arrived back at the Hall exhausted. There had been a letter for Jamie but he had barely glanced at it before heading for first the food and then their bed, where he had shown that he was not _that_ exhausted. 

Hence a certain nobleman sitting down rather carefully today. And a certain soldier smirking far too much, especially as the bastard was out of swatting range!

“Young Eddie did not want to join us yesterday”, Jamie observed. “Odd; he normally enjoys outdoor work.”

Stephen chuckled.

“Thunor came over and told him that he was studying to become an accountant”, he said, “which means his going to one of the colleges down in Oxford. Fortunately he quite likes the idea – as if he had a choice! – and hopefully things will be back to normal by the time that he is eighteen a few years from now.”

“Some men are so whipped”, Jamie grinned. “They really will do anything that special someone tells them to.”

Stephen stared at him suspiciously. He did not believe that innocent expression for one minute!

MDCXLV

**August 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Two days later there was some worrying news that suggested things might not be so done and dusted as both men had hoped. Jamie read the letter in silence.”

“Kudos to your cousin for getting the news to us so quickly”, he said grimly. “Apparently I underestimated the Covenanters; they could be so stupid as to lose to Montrose again, at Kilsyth which is halfway between Glasgow and Stirling. Now he has all Scotland at his feet!”

“But not for long, surely?” Stephen said. “He only has a small force, and Leslie will surely march his army back over the Border to deal with him.”

“You mean like Baillie did?” Jamie asked tartly. 

The nobleman had to admit that he had a point there.

“News must have reached the king as well”, Stephen mused, “hence his sudden move towards Yorkshire. He must be hoping to join up with the Marquis, few enough forces that he himself has.”

“We have lots of men in Yorkshire”, Jamie said confidently, “and the county is mostly ours now Scarborough has fallen.”

Stephen nodded, but he felt uneasy. The swift end to the war that he had been hoping for suddenly looked rather less certain.

MDCXLV

**August 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I begin to wonder if the king has finally lost the plot”, Jamie said a few days later. “I mean, I know he was blocked in Yorkshire, but to fall on somewhere like Huntingdon where we are strongest in the country? Unless he thinks to draw Cromwell off to defend his native Fens.”

“For all that he is a sound fellow, Cromwell does not 'do' emotions”, Stephen said. “Even Anne says as much, in between threatening to read Aunt Agnes's stories to poor Luke. She had this new one the other day about the sexual items found in Ancient Egypt, except that she suggested....”

He stopped at his lover's warning look.

“Your aunt is the only writer who can make people feel ill with even a description of her crimes against writing”, the soldier grumbled. “Frankly we should have sent her works to the king before this whole mess started; he would likely have surrendered at once!”

“Her writings are not that bad”, Stephen said.

His lover just looked at him.

“All right, they are that bad”, Stephen admitted. “And only a cruel person would suggest that Anne uses them to keep Luke in line.”

“Only a cruel person”, Jamie agreed. _”Or a correct one!”_

Stephen chuckled.

MDCXLV

**August 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The end of the month saw two more pieces of news from lands to the east. Stephen winced when he read the first.

“So much for the new scientific age!” he sighed. “Eighteen 'witches' have been hanged in Bury St. Edmunds.”

“That villain Hopkins¹ again!” Jamie almost snarled. “If they really were witches then surely one of them would have turned him into a toad. Or something even slimier and more repulsive than he already is!”

“I fear parliament knows full well that he is a charlatan”, Stephen said, “but they do not wish to upset an area that has provided so many of our troops during the contention, even if the king has now withdrawn from it. Part of the Puritan set of beliefs is that witches rank right down there alongside Catholics when it comes to heretical beliefs.”

“Well, if he and his sort come anywhere near here then they will find that we can do hangings of our own”, Jamie said shortly. “The Great Barn has some wonderfully strong beams, and plenty of rope!”

“There is also news from abroad”, Stephen said. “The Swedes have won their war with Denmark and made significant land gains from their neighbours.”

“So the king's uncle will be unable to help him again”, Jamie said. “Just as well, given the mess up in my home country.”

MDCXLV

**September 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Fraser came back from Oxford with some news earlier”, Stephen told his lover as they lay in their bed. It might have been two o' clock in the afternoon but sex with a hot soldier – especially one as flexible as Jamie – was not to be turned down for anything less than an apocalypse. Or for that matter, stewards who looked at their lord and master in a dressing-gown in a maybe slightly less than together state, and smirked quite unnecessarily.

All right, Stephen had also been listing slightly, but that was not the point!

“What news?” Jamie asked.

“The king has relieved Hereford”, Stephen said. “The Scots under Leven did not even try to oppose him; parliament has neither paid not properly supplied them so he abandoned his siege and withdrew as the king approached. It preserves the Royalist 'kingdom' and leaves him an outlet into Wales for now, but not for much longer.”

“Especially as Fairfax is closing in on Bristol”, Jamie agreed. “Ready for Round Two?”

It really was unfair of Stephen's traitorous voice to say 'yes' before his brain had finished listing as to which body parts might not survive such an encounter. But as his lover hustled him back up the seemingly endless staircase, he decided to just go with it. After all, it was not as if he had any choice.

Shut up.

MDCXLV

**September 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Luke smiled as he sat down.

“Anne is expecting again”, he said. “She is due next April or thereabouts.”

“That is excellent news!” Stephen beamed. “Another grandchild.”

“And if it is a son, we want Jamie to be his godfather”, Luke said. “Despite his being a complete bastard of the first order the last time I came over.”

Stephen looked in surprise at his lover, who was wearing an innocent expression that made him immediately suspicious.

“What did he do?” he asked warily.

“He said that I could borrow his waistcoat from your wardrobe”, Luke said, looking pointedly at the soldier who was now grinning unashamedly. “In all good faith I went and got it, then for some strange reason I was stupid enough to ask why he had a teacher's cloak and mortar-board in there. _And the bastard went and told me!”_

Jamie shrugged his shoulders.

“I like to educate your father from time to time”, he said. “It takes a lot to push learning into him, and....”

"James Buchanan, you stop right there!” Luke all but yelled. “Have you no shame?”

“No”, the soldier grinned, “but I do have a report card written by your father where he says.... oof!”

He had to duck when the young man threw a cushion at him. Stephen chuckled at them both.

MDCXLV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Matthew Hopkins (b. 1620). His 'trials' involved torture that sometimes killed witnesses, and he is thought to have been responsible for over three hundred executions, more than had happened in the whole of England for the previous century. Worse, he left records of his practices and beliefs which infamously found an outlet thousands of miles away and half a century later in the Salem Witch Trials._


	10. The Misfortunes Of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 1645.   
> It is downhill all the way for the king, not helped when after losing Bristol he sacks his nephew and then heads off to try to relieve the important fort of Chester only to see one of his few remaining forces wiped out. Worst of all, Montrose is finally defeated although he escapes and continues to threaten the Covenanters. Meanwhile Stephen and Jamie have a death in the family – but not one that they are inclined to mourn.

**September 1645**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The news, when it came, was not unexpected.

“Rupert has agreed to surrender Bristol”, Stephen said quietly. 

Jamie nodded and looked outside. It was still officially summer and still unseasonably hot, but there were signs that autumn was on its way. Thankfully there had been showers over the recent days which had helped the situation over the river, although it was still not high enough for Stephen to even consider replenishing his lake. Besides, he knew that his showing such concern for his estate workers greatly puzzled his fellow noblemen to whom philanthropy was merely a word in the dictionary somewhere before philosophy.

“After all this rain stopping his cavalry raids, he could hardly do otherwise”, he said. “He was foolish to promise the king that he could hold it until the end of the year, though. It will make little difference to the overall scheme of things except to blacken his name.”

Stephen nodded. Neither of them knew that the siege of Bristol was about to affect them personally.

MDCXLV

**September 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was a few days later, and the fall in temperatures seemed to indicate that autumn had come early this year. The estate workers were making a great effort to bring in the harvest as the local wise-woman had warned them that heavy rains were due the following week, so Stephen and Jamie had been out in the fields helping, again to the bemusement of their workers. It was only when they got back when they found the letter.

“From Prince Rupert himself”, Jamie said when he saw it.

“How can you know that without even opening it?” Stephen asked.

“It is his seal, the black and blue of the Palatinate”, the soldier said. “I wonder why he is writing to us of all people?”

He opened the letter and read it. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Well!”

“What is it?” Stephen asked.

“What is it not?” Jamie countered. “The king has dismissed the prince from his service and commanded him to go overseas.”

His lover's silence alerted him at once that something was wrong.

“I feared that that might happen”, he said. “Remember that letter Vane sent to me last week?”

“Mostly dry parliament stuff”, Jamie said. “I did not need a soporific so I did not read it.”

“A soporific but with a sting”, Stephen said. “He said that they were going to grant the Elector Palatine a pension of some eight thousand pounds¹!”

Jamie's eyes widened.

“That is cunning even for Vane!” he exclaimed. “For a small outlay they have purchased the king's distrust of his best officer. Charles Stuart must have thought that the pension and Rupert handing over Bristol after he had promised to defend it for several months were connected, and that Charles Louis would be handing some of it on as the 'price' of Bristol.”

“That he could be stupid enough to believe such a thing says a lot about the man”, Stephen said sadly, “and none of it good. At least the prince will be spared the death of his cause, which will come all the sooner without him.”

“Why did he write to you, though?” Jamie asked.

Stephen looked hard at him.

“Those cavalry raids that his men undertook to try to disrupt the siege, before the rains stopped them”, he said. “One group was caught, with every man in it slaughtered. The last few survivors were trapped in a barn and their pursuers razed it to the ground with them inside!”

Jamie's eyes widened.

_"'Anthony Stark'?”_

Stephen nodded.

“We had better have Edward down and tell him”, he said.

MDCXLV

Edward Stark took the death of his uncle stoically, and Stephen was frankly impressed that the boy did not express any happiness or relief. Even if in truth they were all three of them feeling both those emotions.

“I suppose that that clears things up a little”, the boy said. “I was always a little worried about him if truth be told, especially that he knew how to use a weapon.”

“I can see that”, Stephen said. 

“It reminds me of something my cousin Thor said when I met him last month”, Edward said. “He had his friend Brennus with him and he said that he knows his way around a weapon too. I did not think that he had ever trained to be a soldier.”

Both men tried not to blush at that.

“And whenever they come over, my cousin always looks so tired”, Edward said thoughtfully. “I wonder if he is getting enough sleep?”

The two men looked at each other, clearly sharing the same thought that the boy's cousin was probably not getting enough sleep, and that the 'very funny' Brennus was the certain cause of that. _Also that an asteroid strike to end this conversation right now would be greatly appreciated!_

MDCXLV

**September 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Jamie looked at his lover curiously when he handed him his latest letter.

“It must be bad if you are not saying anything”, he said warily.

“It is”, Stephen said. “In almost every way.”

Jamie took the letter and read it. His face darkened as he did, and Stephen caught him flexing his hands into fists which was never a good sign.

“Is this confirmed?” the soldier asked harshly.

“I am afraid it is”, Stephen said. “Leven posted it as the official report of the battle.”

“That they defeated my half-uncle through trickery rather than a fair fight is not unexpected”, Jamie said. “Several lords promising to support him if he rode to the Border then luring him into Leven's forces; I always thought that would be the only way they could ever worse him. But the aftermath? How could he? Leven is supposed to be a professional soldier, let alone a nobleman!”

“He is a professional but also a devout Covenanter”, Stephen said, “and alas! a weak leader. His men demanded that despite his having promised their prisoners quarter, they did not need to honour it as they were 'only Irishmen'. Which many of them were not I would wager, but you know Scottish politics.”

“Indeed”, Jamie glowered. “Any excuse for slaughter.”

He sighed and led the way into the study where, Stephen knew, his love would want nothing more than to hold him on the settee for a time. The mad, mad world out there could tend to itself for once.

MDCXLV

**September 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Do you know a fellow called Tom Rainsborough²?”

Stephen looked up blearily at his lover, who seemed to want political discussions at the strangest times. As in now when he was still trying to drive himself ever deeper into the nobleman in their bed. Stephen would have objected but.... he did not.

“One of Fairfax's men”, he managed. “At Naseby. I think.”

“And at Bristol”, Jamie said, continuing in his search for Mecca (and if he pushed much harder he might well find it!). “He has just taken Berkeley Castle.”

Stephen saw at once the significance of that. It was not just one castle but the king's last holding in south Gloucestershire, and gave parliament full control of almost everything between the king's Oxford base and the port of Exeter, about one hundred and fifty miles away. The full strength of the New Model Army could now be concentrated on finishing off the west before returning to deal with the university city.

“Fairfax may not be a political player, but he is smart”, Jamie said as he worked away. “He has a clever way of saying something about someone that makes you think what he really means is something else. He thinks Rainsborough is a troublemaker though talented enough, which I think was why he sent him against Berkeley.”

Stephen nodded, then yelped as his lover hoisted his legs even higher before renewing his assault.

MDCXLV

**September 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“One thing I do disagree with Fairfax over is the Prince of Wales”, Jamie said a few days later, “especially as the boy has now been forced into Cornwall.”

Stephen nodded, and even that made his eyes water. Jamie had really gone to town on him these past few days, and even his super-padded chair still _hurt!_ A good hurt even if some of his muscles disagreed, but still a hurt.

“Why?” he asked. Hell, even speaking hurt!

“He is relying on Warwick and the Navy to prevent his escape to somewhere like France”, Jamie said, smirking far too much even for a soldier with an arguably good reason. “But they are having to deal with both the Dunkirkers and the Confederate Irish. Are you not going to open your letter?”

Stephen glared at him. His letter-opener was five thousand miles away on his study desk, and the bastard well knew. Jamie grinned but opened it for him and read it. Then he whistled through his teeth.

“Well, just when the king thought that things could not get any worse, they have”, he said. “He made it to Chester and got into the town, only to see his men defeated outside at a place called Rowton Heath when they tried to raise the siege. He needs the place as there are few ports left open to him where his much hoped-for Irish army can land.”

Stephen nodded, then winced again. And someone was one smirk away from sleeping on the couch, damn the villain!

MDCXLV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) About £1.3 million ($1.5 million) at 2020 prices._   
>  _2) Then-colonel Thomas Rainsborough (b. 1610). One of the most devout Puritans, he would soon meet an untimely end but not before making his mark on history by saying something unimaginable._


	11. Mistletoe And Whiners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October-December 1645.   
> The Fates seem to have well and truly turned on Charles Stuart, as one of his few remaining fortresses is taken by a fluke shot, a second falls in a confused encounter over ID, a third is 'swept' away, and the much hoped-for foreign intervention finally arrives but in the worst possible way. With parliament ascendant the crackdown on Christmas is stepped up but luckily Stephen and Jamie have a reason for a party on December the twenty-fifth, even if it is for someone of considerable gravity.

**October 1645**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“This king never ceases to amaze me!” Jamie said the very next day. “Every time I think he cannot be any more stupid, he proves me wrong!”

“What has he done this time?” Stephen sighed.

“He has sent young Eddie Somerset¹ over to Ireland – to talk with the Confederate rebels!”

The nobleman sat up sharply, then uttered a yelp. Apparently his body was not quite back to normal after recent events.

“Is he mad?” he demanded. “Come to that, how do we know?”

“We do not, yet”, Jamie admitted, definitely smirking at his lover's eyes watering. “Diana has written to warn us of it so we might pass it on to Vane if we so wish. She also found out something else from one of her foreign contacts. The king is finally about to get that foreign intervention he wished for – but in a way that will only do him irreparable harm. The Pope is sending a nuncio to the Confederates.”

That, Stephen knew, was a big deal in the world of politics. It meant that the Papacy formally considered Confederate Ireland a sovereign state, and with the approaching end to hostilities on the Continent that might lead other states to follow suit knowing that it would gravely weaken England.

“The king is a lunatic, then”, he said. “They can supply him with only a few thousand ill-trained troops who have yet to win an open battle, while his few remaining English supporters - and especially his Welsh ones - will abandon him when they find out.”

“I had better write to Vane and ask him to get searching for proof, then”, Stephen said.

“Or tell him to just go round to Diana's bakery and ask her for it!” Jamie grinned.

MDCXLV

**October 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Over the following two weeks, Stephen took to having either Fraser or Chatton go down to Oxford every day as there nearly always seemed to be some development or other. And they always seemed to be bad for the king.

“Chepstow over in Monmouthshire has been taken, threatening Hereford and the king's last link to Wales”, Stephen said. And we finally have Basing House, which will open up the flow of trade into London no end. You remember telling me how both sides choose a sign and a password before battle? There, by some fluke, both chose paper in hats and the phrase 'God with us'. The result was chaos but we still won.”

“God's anointed not getting God's help”, Jamie said. _“Again!"_

“And that strange battle in the north at – what was the name of the place? - Sherburn-in-Elmet”, Stephen went on, “where we lost the initial encounter but won when reinforcements arrived just in time. The king's last flickering hope that the north might be regained is gone.”

Jamie chuckled.

“You are, I hope, not going to suggest that even the king must see that his cause is lost now?” he asked.

“Why would I say that?” Stephen said resignedly. _“I know him!”_

“I doubt that even the loss of Tiverton will convince him”, Jamie said, “despite the fact that God was clearly on our side in Devonshire as well as in Hampshire.”

“Why do you say that?” Stephen asked.

“Because in a close-fought siege we only won when a lucky shot broke the chain holding the drawbridge up”, Jamie said, “and our men rushed over it before they could be stopped. Fairfax is very clearly moving to surround Exeter, after which he will deal with Cornwall. As I said, in character he is not unlike Essex with all this caution except for one key difference.”

“Which is?” Stephen asked.

“Fairfax is winning”, Jamie grinned, “and as we saw with poor Meldrum over those Irish he freed in Liverpool, a winner can get away with a whole lot more!”

MDCXLV

**October 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The charred remains of the late Anthony Stark had finally reached Stalwarton, and after consulting with young Edward it was agreed that he would be laid to rest in the churchyard but not in the family vault. All three attended the funeral service which was mercifully short, then walked back to the Hall in silence.

“Monmouth fell yesterday”, Jamie said once he and Stephen were in the study. “That tightens the noose around Hereford. I was surprised that Chester did not fall after the battle at Rowton but its days are surely numbered.”

“If Fairfax can finish off Cornwall then the king will lose almost all his outlets to the sea”, the nobleman said. “He still has the castles at Conway and Harlech in Wales, though.”

“It is so nearly over”, Jamie said. “We have won the war. Now we have to win the peace.”

MDCXLV

**November 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The middle of autumn saw the slow but inexorable tightening of the net around the king, and would otherwise have been uneventful but for a worrisome leaked letter that reached parliament just after Guy Fawkes's Night.

“The king sent an offer to the Covenanter Scots to see if they wished to support him in return for his 'graciously' granting all their demands”, Stephen told his lover.

Jamie chuckled.

“Except that when they get down to details, they will find that he whispered very quietly afterwards 'but not the religion thing'”, he said. “And that will only confirm their suspicions that this king cannot be dealt with.”

“Those are not suspicions”, Stephen said firmly. “Those are realities!”

MDCXLV

**December 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Even in war, there was the odd element of humour. Stephen chuckled at the latest letter.

“What is so funny?” Jamie asked.

“We have quite literally 'swept' into Hereford!”

The soldier just looked at him in confusion.

“Some of our men pretended to be men looking for work, and walked into the town carrying just brooms”, Stephen said. “They were stopped but they managed to overpower the men on guard and let in the rest of our troops. We have the place so the king is completely cut off from Wales now.”

“Unfortunately he is also cut off from reality”, Jamie said, “and no amount of trickery with garden implements is going to cure that!”

MDCXLV

**December 1645**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was Christmas Day, and they were still digesting the news that Fairfax was moving towards Exeter when there was a loud knock at the door. Stephen left his guests and went to answer it – he enjoyed doing this to see people's confused looks when they realized that he was the master of the house – and returned with a soldier who looked far too officious for Jamie's liking. Or Stephen's, for that matter.

“Sorry, sir”, the soldier said most definitely not looking it, “but we received a report of someone celebrating Christmas Day. You know that that is not allowed now.”

Jamie very pointedly fingered his dagger. The soldier shuffled backwards.

“As I am sure you are aware”, Stephen said coolly, “the ban does not extend to birthday celebrations. The lady sat over there is Mistress Hannah Newton², widow to a cousin of mine, and the boy with her is her son Isaac who is three today. We are thus marking this monumental occasion. Because I know one must observe the rules and regulations in this day and age, I have the boy's birth certificate to hand. Would you care to see it?”

He did not wait for an answer but handed a document over to the soldier, who looked at it almost hopefully before frowning in disappointment.

“This seems to be in order, sir”, he said. “Sorry, but we cannot be too careful.”

“Indeed”, Stephen said, looking hard at him. “I am glad to see that. Good day.”

The tone of dismissal was clear; the soldier reddened and made a quick exit. Both men looked after him for some little time before sighing with relief.

“How lucky that the boy's birthday is today”, Jamie grinned. “Or is it?”

“It is”, Stephen said, “and his mother was delighted that I was able to put her up during her travels to see other family in London. And that we can celebrate the.... birthday.”

Jamie chuckled.

MDCXLV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Edward Somerset, Marquess of Worcester (b. 1602). A mega-rich man and an inventor; one of his books illustrated a potential steam engine (never built). He was a distant cousin of the king but through an illegitimate line._   
>  _2) Hannah and her sons were real; the boy was named for her late husband and young Isaac would grow up to famously prove that the apple did sometimes fall far from the tree. A matter of some gravity (I'll stop now)._


	12. Tightening The Screws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January 1646.   
> It is fortunate that Stephen Amerike is not the jealous sort of lover, although after he has made plain his mild displeasure at his lover again calling another man handsome, the nobleman may need to take a little time before he can walk again. There are rumours of the king trying to raise another army, and Fairfax further tightens the screws on the port of Exeter.

**January 1646**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The skies above Stalwarton were dark and heavy with grey cloud threatening heavy snow, but for now they merely hung over the village draining the colour from the winter landscape. There had been light snowfalls over the Yuletide season that they were definitely not celebrating, and the two men snuggled together in bed that morning rather than go out to face the cold world beyond.

“I think you are right about the news thing”, Jamie said, playing with his lover's hair. “One day there will be some sort of technology that means we can gets news almost immediately from anywhere in the Three Kingdoms, even though the current system where it somehow gets here anyway is pretty good.”

Since Fraser and Chatton were celebrating Christmas in the own way (and, the nobleman knew, with the loan of their Special Boxes God help them!) Stephen's cousin Baldur had taken to sending his eldest son Odin down to Oxford each day to see what news there was, and yesterday he had come back with something surprising. An envoy from the French government was in the city and the rumours were that Paris was trying to broker some sort of deal between the king and the Covenanter Scots.

“Your countrymen would not be so foolish as to trust the king”, the nobleman said. “A leopard does not change its spots¹.”

“This is Charles Stuart here”, Jamie reminded him. “God's anointed who cannot fail. He will think that he could win them over somehow, even if it is with soft promises that he has no intention of keeping.”

“He has certainly never let reality impinge on his view of how the world should be”, Stephen sighed. “I really wish that he could indeed become some sort of constitutional monarch and that we could just move on, but he will never accept such a thing. Of that I am sure.”

He smiled as his lover pulled him closer and they just lay there, enjoying this quiet time and both hoping that the war would soon be done..... ah.

The Buckmaster was rock hard. It was not just the war that would soon be done!

MDCXLVI

**January 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Cromwell has scored another victory”, Stephen told Jamie the following week. “At a place in Devonshire called Bovey Tracey. It is too small to appear on the map but he says that it is south-west of Exeter and on the way to Plymouth.”

“Fairfax must have the town nearly surrounded, then”, Jamie said sagely. “We know how much he hates sieges; he will likely try to defeat the remaining Royalist forces down there and get them to surrender rather than storming the place as he had to do with Bristol. He values his men's lives highly, which is why they love him.”

“But not the way you love me”, Stephen smiled.

“He is very handsome, is Black Tom”, Jamie said with a sly grin, noting the frown on his lover's face when he said that. “He is one of those fortunate men who can look good without trying.”

Stephen stared at his lover suspiciously. The soldier had spoken admiringly of the great commander before. Far too often for his liking.

“Looks are no good on the battlefield”, he said frostily. “You think him handsome?”

A keen observer might have detected more than a hint of jealousy in the nobleman's voice there. If they had been keener they might even have spotted the very slight smirk on a certain soldier's face.

“Unfortunately he is as I said happily married”, Jamie sighed as if in mock disappointment. “But then you know what soldiers are.”

Stephen rose slowly to his feet.

“I think that we need to talk!” he said firmly.

MDCXLVI

**January 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was the middle of the following day before a certain nobleman was able to face the stairs. And it was damnably unfair that even when he was giving rather than receiving, his lover emerged from their couplings looking rather less exhausted (as in rather less shattered) than the nobleman. Worse, he insisted on wearing the kilt at a time when Stephen was incapable of taking advantage of it.

He was incapable of pretty much everything except the ten-mile hike to where some bastard had moved the bathroom, if he was being honest, but that was not the point here!

It was also annoying that Chatton called that same afternoon, smirking at his master's arguably less than perfectly together state.

“I see that Mr. Buchanan has again been proving that fiercely jealous men making the fiercest lovers”, grinned someone who was getting perilously close to unemployment. “I told Fray about Black Tom the other night, which is why he is still lying wrecked in our bed!”

Stephen harrumphed at the teasing bastard. He had the worst employees!

“Is there any news?” he asked not at all testily.

“Be nice to our steward”, Jamie said reprovingly. “Otherwise I might decide that I want to resume normal service immediately he is gone.”

Stephen shuddered in horror. Such a thing would surely end him, and a certain body part really could refrain from registering its approval of the idea!

“Sorry”, he said quickly. “What did you find, Chatton?”

“The city is abuzz with the news from London”, the steward said, quite maliciously smirking at how whipped his employer was. “Parliament has finally got its hand on proof that the king has been trying to secure a deal with the Confederate Irish. Of course there were suspicions, but now they actually know.”

“I would wager he and his supporters will dismiss it as a fake, though”, Jamie said.

“They are so trying to do”, the steward said, “but given the king's past dealings that will not be widely believed. And there was also a small piece of news from the west. Sir Ralph Hopton has been appointed general of what few remaining troops the king has down there.”

“As we feared”, Jamie sighed. “I like the fellow but this is the ultimate in lost causes that he so does not deserve. I only hope that when peace does finally come, the likes of him are treated honourably.”

Stephen nodded, then let out a plaintive cry. Even that hurt and someone – some two – could stop with the smirking _right now!_

MDCXLVI

**January 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I am still worried about this army of Astley's”, Stephen said a couple of days later. “It is fortunate that the king's financial position is so dreadful – his laziness has meant that he never bothered with the administration needed to raise money properly – otherwise he might have assembled a new full-sized army. Instead he has at best a couple of thousand from what I hear.”

“But anything that prolongs this war is a bad thing”, Jamie said. “He is at Worcester, so he has to find a way of getting to the king at Oxford, for what good his small force might do even if he could. We have garrisons across his path at Gloucester, Evesham and Warwick, and I am sure we have spies at Worcester otherwise we would not have so swiftly known on his relieving his outpost at Madresfield.”

“I hardly think a minor success over a small garrison defending one road into Worcester will counterbalance the likes of Naseby, Langport and Rowton”, Stephen said. “But it will mean more unnecessary deaths before this contention is done, and that will make for more bad blood when we try to secure a peace. Which cannot be a good thing.”

MDCXLVI

**January 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I do wonder how the king is able to absorb defeat after defeat”, Stephen said as they walked back from a tour of the estate. There had been four days of solid rain and they had gone round to see what problems if any had been caused as a result. At least the river was back to its full strength as was the ornamental lake. Which was good, although Stephen still thought that his lover's idea of midnight naked swimming was weird.

All right, Jamie always 'talked' him into it. So?

“He has lost again?” Jamie asked.

“And in a way that will make the superstitious think that God has pretty much deserted him”, Stephen said. “Fairfax completed his encirclement of Exeter by taking Dartmouth down the coast. Not only did the local fisherman have an unexpectedly large haul of fish the very next day – their biggest on record, they say – he also intercepted a ship from France carrying letters from the queen. The captain threw them overboard but they were recovered only slightly smudged, and from early reports they further confirm our supposedly Protestant king's dealing with Catholic Irish rebels.”

“But he is the king”, Jamie sighed, “and God has told him that he can do anything he likes in order to keep his throne.”

“He has very few options left now”, Stephen said. “Fairfax may take his time but the west will be his sooner or later, then he will be able to come back here and besiege Oxford. What will the king do then, I wonder?”

MDCXLVI

**January 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Fairfax has reported to parliament that he has taken Powderham Castle”, Stephen said a few days later. “That, he says, is the last of Exeter's outlying forts; now he can leave a small body of men to keep an eye on the city and advance against poor Hopton.”

“That he did not waste men in an unnecessary assault on the place is why he is so well-regarded by his men”, Jamie said. “I feel sorry for Hopton, but he will make a last stand, lose, then retreat into Cornwall. I am only surprised that they have not gotten the Prince of Wales away yet. The further west Fairfax advances the fewer ports there are for him to escape from, and the easier it is for our Navy to watch them.”

“You asked Chatton to find out about the young Duke of York the other day”, Stephen observed. “Any particular reason?”

“Because he had just fucked Fraser so hard that he could no longer walk!” Jamie said blithely. “Come to that....”

He looked suggestively at his lover, who rolled his eyes at him.

“Focus, Bucky!” he said.

“I always do, especially when it is on taking you apart one delicious piece at a time!” the soldier grinned. “I wanted to know more of the character of the young prince, just in case.”

“In case of what?” Stephen asked. “We know that he and his brother are both very much of the same mould as the king, so there would seem little point trying to replace one Stuart with another unless it was with their infant brother Henry. Not that the king would ever willingly abdicate, but I suppose he might be deposed some way.”

“I was thinking what Diana said of the character of the Prince of Wales”, Jamie said. “Remember this king's own father; he was brought up in the strictest way imaginable yet he very much ploughed his own furrow when he came of age. She says that the boy is a pragmatist, but also already developing a reputation with the ladies. If he becomes king and does not produce an heir, we might end up with one of his brothers.”

“He is only fifteen if I recall”, Stephen said. “Surely he cannot have developed a reputation so young?”

Jamie put his hand over his mouth and coughed. There was a word that sounded suspiciously like 'Luke!' in there somewhere and the soldier's innocent expression did not fool his lover for a single minute!

MDCXLVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) A Biblical quote (Jeremiah 12:23). At this time a leopard was still thought to be the offspring of a lion (Leo) and a pard, a spotted cat-like creature that also mated with camels to produce camelopards (giraffes), but by the following century it was understood that pards were mythical._


	13. Sisterly Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 1646.   
> The beleaguered king weighs his (few) options left as his enemies close in on him, and far from providing any aid the Continental powers only undermine his position still further. Down in the west Fairfax drives the Royalists out of Devonshire and into Cornwall. Meanwhile back at Stalwarton both Stephen and Jamie view developments at Oxford with some anxiety, especially after a fearsome visitor calls with a warning.

**February 1646**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I am amazed that Byron held on for so long”, Stephen said, “but that is an end to Chester. Now all the king has is a smattering of Welsh castles, none of which have the resources to accept his long-desired Irish army.”

“Perhaps he thinks they will fly in”, Jamie said. “At least he finally got his foreign support with the papal nuncio reaching Kilkenny – except that the result of it has been to harden the Confederates against any peace and stop whatever support he might have got. It is all too late now; Fairfax has Exeter encircled and is ready to hunt down poor Hopton. The west will soon be ours.”

“What was Eddie asking you about earlier?” Stephen asked.

His lover grinned.

“Thunor's birthday is coming up at the start of April”, he said, “and she has told him that she expects a present as it is her eleventh. He was asking me for ideas.”

“Why did he not ask me?” Stephen wondered.

“He said that you were busy with the estate”, Jamie said, “and also that you were clearly not sleeping as you were yawning across the breakfast-table the other day. We both know why that was, of course!”

He looked pointedly at his lover, who blushed. Oh yes. The sex with kilts thing, which always left the nobleman utterly bro.... somewhat tired. _And that had better not be another damn smirk!_

MDCXLVI

**February 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Sometimes you have to marvel at how stupid people can be”, Stephen observed. “I know that the Pope is far away in Rome but surely his man on the ground can see the real situation here?”

“You are forgetting that religion is involved”, Jamie pointed out. “As we saw after the shame of Philiphaugh in my native country, that blinds men to even the normal 'niceties' of war. And Irish politics is convoluted what with four separate powers on the island, five if we count the Munster men seeking parliament's aid now.”

“But surely even an Italian cleric can see that the continued success of the rebellion depends on keeping its own men united and the other side divided?” Stephen said. “England will soon be past this contention and able to send thousands of troops over to restore order and, very bloodily, avenge the massacres in Ulster.”

“Rumours are that the Anglo-Irish lords are angry at the hard line being taken in talks for peace”, Jamie said. “It is all a horrible mess, even worse than Germany in its time although thankfully the numbers are much smaller and the pitched battles few and far between.”

“At lest until the New Model Army gets there”, Stephen sighed.

MDCXLVI

**February 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen was strongly tempted to smile, but the small figure in front of him was already viewing both him and Jamie with suspicion. Fortunately she did not know that his lover's innocent look was a total fraud; indeed it usually tended to presage....

Not the time! So not the time!

“I did not come over just to see dear Edward”, Thunor said, looking hard at a nobleman who was not fidgeting under her iron gaze. “Although I am sure that he had a good reason for missing church the other week. I look forward to hearing it later.”

Stephen would have wondered how his cousin had known that, given that she attended Hampton church where her father and mother now lived, but he did not dare ask. This girl came across as someone who just _knew._

“I am worried for my eldest brother”, their visitor said. “Unfortunately he is turning out like father: all looks and no brain. He is far too full of himself for someone who is not yet thirteen!”

The girl before him was not yet eleven, but neither man felt inclined to point that out. Because.

“Odie fancies himself as some dashing hero”, the girls aid scornfully, “and of as you know he has been getting news from Oxford. But he has been far too smug of late, so I followed him one day - and he went to the king's quarters.”

Both men snapped to attention at that.

“I thought that that might get your attention”, their visitor said. “As you must know Odie has a rivalry with Thor who is much fitter despite being a year younger, and Thor very much supports parliament. I am afraid that even by his standards, Odie will do something stupid.”

“Have you any idea what?” Jamie asked.

She looked hard at him. He fidgeted for no apparent reason.

“We all know that Oxford's days are numbered”, she said, “and I do not see the king staying there to let himself be captured. I think that he will make a run for it somewhere, and I am afraid that he will entangle poor Odie in his schemes. I need you to keep an eye on things.”

“How can we do that?” Stephen asked reasonably. “He lives nearer to Oxford than we, and we can hardly just happen to keep passing through Hampton every five minutes on the off chance that we catch him leaving?”

He rolled her eyes at him in despair.

“You have those two stewards who go to the city for you most days”, she said. “The tall red-haired one and the thin dark-haired one. Mostly the younger one; the older one is always tired for some reason.”

She looked at the two of them far too knowingly for one so young. 

“Just watch out”, she said. “Mother is fond of Odie – Lord know why but that is adults for you – and she would be very cross if anything happened to him. She might even start digging out some of Granny's stories, and after that one about what the Romans really did on Hadrian's Wall, we do not need that!”

Both men winced.

MDCXLVI

“Though if she ever calls Aunt Agnes 'Granny' to her face”, Stephen observed later, “Edward will no longer have a future wife to worry about!”

Jamie was silent. The nobleman looked at him, then gulped.

“Please tell me that you are not thinking about....”

“Hadrian's Wall”, the soldier said slowly. “And we do have that centurion costume.”

He looked meaningfully at his lover, who trembled. It look like being another long, hard afternoon. 

Score!

MDCXLVI

**February 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Well, it has happened”, Stephen told Jamie about a week later. “Fairfax finally caught Hopton at Torrington in the middle of Devonshire, and shattered his poor excuse for an army. He is retreating into Cornwall now as if that will somehow save him.”

“A good soldier fights to the end”, Jamie said, “no matter how lost a cause might seem. This extension of the Cessation for another three months opens up at least the possibility that the king will get some troops out of Ireland.”

“But where can he land them?” Stephen asked. “As you said, what are they going to do – fly in?”

Jamie was silent for some reason.

“What is it?” Stephen asked.

The soldier grinned darkly.

“I was thinking”, he said. “Those leather straps, our bed – I could suspend you from the canopy and have my way with you while you just hand there helpless to do anything!”

Stephen stared at him in shock. That was.... disturbingly exciting!

MDCXLVI

**February 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“So Fairfax is in Launceston¹ now”, Jamie said. “The Prince of Wales is rapidly running out of places to escape from, and Hopton must surely surrender some time soon.”

Stephen stared blearily at him, trying to get the soldier to come into focus. Apparently their reinforced bed had been able to bear his weight while he hung suspended from its canopy and his sex maniac of a lover.....seriously, no man should be made to come like that when he was unable to do anything to stop it.

Well, no man not called Stephen Roger Amerike!

“Batten² is patrolling the seas now”, Jamie went on, clearly having far too much enjoyment at his lover's wretched state. “It is a long coastline to cover but from our reports we think that the prince is making for Falmouth and a possible ship for France. If we could capture him then it might make his father more inclined to negotiate.”

“Or to pretend to negotiate while waiting for the miracle that will save him and destroy the 'rebels and traitors' like us”, Stephen said, quite proud that he could manage such a long sentence.

Jamie just looked at him. Stephen's abused limbs started praying in unison. Surely not again?

MDCXLVI

Again.

MDCXLVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Pronounced 'Larnsen', the first town across the border on the second of the four main roads into Cornwall._   
>  _2) William Batten (b. 1600), Vice-Admiral of the Navy. A good commander who was popular with his men, but also unfortunately prone to inspire distrust among his superiors._


	14. Unless.....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March 1646.   
> A limited-time offer and the near completion of the western campaign leads to the surrender of many of the king's remaining garrisons, although treachery helps with one of them. Sir Jacob Astley ends the war as he started it, with a memorable if unfortunately prescient quote, while Stephen is annoyed that someone will not take him at his word.

**March 1646**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen sighed as he stared at the map. The orange-headed pins for parliament now dominated the map, hemming in the king's red ones in a few small areas only one of which was larger than a single pin – the one which, unhappily, included the area around Stalwarton. He took out a red pin from near the bottom and replaced it with yet another orange one.

“Corfe Castle?” Jamie asked, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his lover. Stephen nodded.

“Dame Mary¹ held out against us to the last”, he said, “and it was treachery among one of her own that defeated her.”

“And spared us the utter embarrassment of being beaten by a woman!” Jamie grinned.

“I do wonder why parliament chose orange when they wanted a distinctive sash for their leaders”, Stephen said. “Especially against the red of the new uniforms, it does not really stand out.”

“Perhaps when you are facing a gang of men trying to kill you, standing out is not always a good thing”, Jamie suggested. “Remember when Fairfax had to pass through the enemy lines during Marston Moor? I would wager he was glad for any confusion. By the way, is it true that the Prince of Wales has escaped to the Scilly Isles?”

“Yes”, Stephen said frowning, “a strange destination indeed. Batten will have his ships off there soon enough and there will be no chance of his reaching France. Perhaps he felt that he had to at least give the impression he was not fleeing the country, as even thirty miles out into the wide blue Atlantic they are still part of Cornubia.”

“Meanwhile Fairfax marches on across Cornwall”, Jamie said. “It is success all round yet you do not seem happy, my liege.”

“I fear for what comes next”, Stephen said. “And come it soon will – Fairfax will be at the gates of Oxford in spring, and then what?”

He suddenly felt Jamie's hand slipping beneath his belt. Apparently what came next was him! Score!

MDCXLVI

**March 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“There are times when I think that Westminster is full of idiots”, Jamie began.

He stopped there. Stephen looked at him suspiciously.

“There had better be a 'however' or a but' in your next sentence”, he said acidly, “considering that you _may_ be sleeping in a bed belonging to a member of parliament tonight. I stress that _'may'_.”

“Who says that I shall let you sleep save from sexual exhaustion?” Jamie grinned.

Stephen felt entitled to roll his eyes at the fellow for that. He looked at him expectantly.

 _”Nevertheless”,_ Jamie said with what looked far too close to a smirk, “sometimes even they come up with something genius. Last year we had that brilliant move inviting the Elector Palatine over and giving him a pension that ended his brother's service with the king. And now this compounding idea for errant Royalists, of whom there are still many all be they scattered.”

“Thankfully Aidan has been covertly helping parliament, which Vane well knows”, Stephen said. “It is clever, though. Surrender before May Day and get especially favourable terms when we assess the price of your sins, or surrender after said date and pay a far heavier price. It may be slow at first but now the west is won there will be a flood of people rushing to Westminster to buy their way back into favour.”

“And then all we have left is to deal with the king”, Jamie said. “Simple!”

Stephen just looked at him, Incredibly the bastard was becoming even more sarcastic as he got older, impossible as that had seemed.

MDCXLVI

**March 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The inevitable happened just forty-eight hours after that conversation, but it took another two days before news of it reached Stalwarton. Unfortunately Chatton had been unable to go down to Oxford the day before because, as he put it, he and Fraser were temporarily out of commission'. Or as someone to whom subtlety was the word in the dictionary after substitute, 'one of their games went a bit wrong'. He really was getting worse!

Stephen might have objected but as it happened Chatton had mentioned to Jamie just what he had tried, and against all probabilities it was physically possible. Even if a certain nobleman would be spending most of today trying to get his body to forgive him!

“Hopton has surrendered to Fairfax on generous terms”, Jamie said, far too brightly even for someone who had done what he had done the night before. “Best of all the old fellow has pledged not to fight for the king again.”

Stephen looked across the bed at his lover. This was he knew a common tactic particularly on his own side; rather than pay to keep prisoners they would be recorded and let go if they promised not to serve the opposition again. If they did and were caught then it was instant death, but few were that stupid. 

Jamie caught his expression and smiled.

“There is always the danger that the king will find some way to prolong this conflict”, he said, “especially given his seeming ability to always do the worst thing possible. Hopton is a man of his word; he will keep out of any future conflict.”

“More war”, Stephen sighed, shifting in their bed. “Ow!”

He would have glared at the smirking bastard next to him, but Jamie very obligingly eased him into his arms and held him which was... moderately acceptable. And best of all there was that jar of aftercare unguent on the bedside cabinet which the nobleman could not wait to have applied to what was left of his body.

MDCXLVI

**March 1646**  
 **Stow-on-the-Wold, Gloucestershire, ENGLAND**

Sir William Brereton, four years senior to both Stephen and Jamie, had every right to relish in being the victor of what was almost certainly the last battle of this contention, even if it had been little more than a skirmish. But the sight of an angry Jamie very visibly playing with his dagger clearly had his fellow soldier suddenly wondering if he had pushed his luck that bit too far. He did not back away from the angry Scotsman but he may have shifted his position. In a rearwards direction. With some rapidity.

“I know that we are all on edge now that this contention is almost done”. Stephen said coolly, “and doubtless parliament will issue a fitting reward for your finishing off the last of the king's armies, sir. But when a gentleman like Sir Jacob Astley names me as his guarantor and I am prepared to travel all this way to assure you of the same, then I rather expect you to take my word as a gentleman.”

He looked meaningfully at the man who like Cromwell had been considered important enough to have been exempted from the Self-Denying Ordinance and had recently secured Cheshire before coming south two crush the king's last hope, Astley's men trying to reach Oxford. That force had been run down here, just beyond the border with Oxfordshire, and most had been allowed to go home providing they swore the usual oath not to serve again.

“Fellow was a bit too smug for my liking”, the soldier said. “Sat on the cross there saying 'you have done your work well, boys, now you may go play – _unless you fall out among yourselves'._ And he had just lost!”

“Given the divisions among those ranked against the king, his observation may turn out to be quite percipient”, Stephen said. “I appreciate that for a soldier of Sir Jacob's abilities the normal pledge might be considered insufficient, but he assured that I am prepared to wager my own small lands on his keeping to his word.”

One of Brereton's men pulled him aside and whispered something to him. Stephen could not catch it but the soldier went rather pale and quite quickly.

“Very well, sir”, Brereton said shortly.

Stephen guessed that the fellow had been informed of his connection to Cromwell, who was known to take an unhealthy interest in those who annoyed him or his friends. Unhealthy in the sense of arranging a free one-way trip to the Barbadoes² for whoever was causing said annoyance, where they would have many years – a lifetime, in fact – to improve their tan. And a lifetime job on an estate whether they wanted it or not!

MDCXLVI

**March 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Well, there is good news and bad news for the king today”, Stephen said with a sigh. “The Confederates have agreed to send him a force of some ten thousand men, just as he wanted.”

“An undisciplined rabble which our men could dispatch with half that number”, Jamie said, “though we do not need this contention made any the longer. What was the bad news?”

“Two lots”, Stephen said. “First, there is the small matter that there is nowhere for them to land. I suppose that they might try to force their way in at Conway Castle on the North Welsh coast, which the king still holds even if we have the town, but once the west is secured then much of the Navy can be dispatched to stop them.”

“And?” Jamie asked.

“The Pope's man still believes that they only need a few more wins and an independent Catholic Ireland will be theirs”, Stephen said. “With the Continent edging slowly towards peace – they might even get there before the decade is out if they are not careful! - England cannot afford to have a hostile Catholic state to its rear, let alone across its routes to the New World.”

MDCXLVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Mary Bankes (1598-1661), whose husband John had died two years back, and was defending the castle with her fifteen-year-old son Ralph. Like with many castles Corfe was slighted on the orders of parliament; when the family regained their estates on the Restoration in 1660, the new Sir Ralph decided to abandon it and instead built nearby Kingston Lacy House. It is impressive and the castle ruins it supplanted even more so; they were the inspiration for some of Enid Blyton's Famous Five novels so reviled by 'progressives', and also featured in the 1971 film 'Bedknobs And Broomsticks'. Revisionist historians and their fellow 'progressives' at the National Trust who own the property today would like to write her out of history for some reason._   
>  _2) Then the most important English colony in the Americas, generating more money than all the others combined because of its sugar trade. The flow of prisoners there eventually became such that 'to be Barbadosed' entered the English language._


	15. King's Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April-May 1646.   
> A happy family event is followed by a narrow familial escape from trouble. General Fairfax closes in on Oxford and the end of the war seems nigh – but then the king disappears! There is panic and suspicion all round before the dreadful truth emerges – he has surrendered himself to the Scots who are taking him back north.   
> Oh! Bugger!

**April 1646**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was a rare thing indeed for Stephen to see his lover speechless. He really wished that there had been some way to capture the moment for all time, impossible though that was.

Luke had come over the day after All Fools' Day with the news that his wife had given birth to a healthy baby boy, and with surprisingly little effort (she had only screamed at him the four times). 

“What are you going to call him?” Stephen asked.

For some reason his son hesitated.

“We thought Stephen James Amerike”, he said at last. “Named for his father and godfather.”

Stephen was touched, and he could see that his lover was too. That was a rare thing indeed, although whenever the soldier got emotional....

His son coughed pointedly.

“Could you at least wait until I am out of hearing distance?” he said pointedly.

Both men blushed. And being considerate fellows, they did. At least the young man knew better than to come back for anything he had left behind after that unfortunate incident involving the walking-stick and the Viking outfit. Although to be fair both men had apologized for that, especially after Luke threatened to pass it on to his great-aunt so she could use it in one of her dreadful stories!

The boy knew what lethal weapons to use, it seemed!

MDCXLVI

**April 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I am not sure whether to be glad or sorry”, Stephen said. “It certainly seems that the Fates have favoured the king for once, although I doubt that it will make much difference at this stage.”

“Ireland?” Jamie asked. 

His lover shook his head.

“The west”, he said. “Batten had the king trapped in the Scilly Isles, patrolling off them to keep him there while Fairfax finishes off the inevitable loose ends in Cornwall. Then a major storm blows up and he manages to escape, to Jersey they are saying.”

“As good as in France, then”, Jamie said. “Not that we could have replaced this king with him; he is very much his father's son. But doubtless Charles Stuart will see it as a sign that the Lord is still on his side.”

“He will be seeing something else soon”, Stephen said. “Fairfax will be on his way to Oxford this month, and laying siege to it. Then he will have brought home to him just how near the end of this contention really is!”

MDCXLVI

**April 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“As I said”, Stephen said not at all sententiously, “victory is much harder to manage than defeat.”

Jamie rolled his eyes at his lover.

“A politician who loves making speeches”, he said, staring pointedly out of the window, “Aye, the sky is still blue!”

Stephen glared at his sassy lover.

“This fuss over Christmas has shown the divisions between the Scots and parliament”, he said. “They are too far apart especially on religion, and it worries me.”

“You do not think that they will come to blows, surely?” Jamie asked.

“The Scots fear the presence of the Independents in parliament”, Stephen said, “as do Holles and the English Presbyterians. They would do better to consider that their enemies are much stronger in the New Model Army, a professional force with guns.”

“A coup?” Jamie asked. “In England? Surely not?”

“These letters from Cromwell worry me”, Stephen said. “I know that everyone says Fairfax is the general and Cromwell the politician, but our in-law still seems to think that some sort of deal must be struck with the king. He is quite conservative in his outlook, unlike say Lilburne.”

“And you?” Jamie asked.

“As I said before, I like many of Lilburne's ideas but I can see that there is no way to effect them without a revolution”, Stephen said. “And like wars, revolutions always end badly. Remember that only three years back this war was being handled by Pym and Hampden who wanted merely to, as they said, 'put the king back in his box'. This king will never accept that, but now he is dealing with people like Cromwell who will likely not react well when he tries to do his usual double-dealing with them.”

Jamie nodded.

“I would like to say that not even Charles Stuart would be that stupid”, he agreed, “but as one of his subjects, I know him!”

MDCXLVI

**April 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Thunor had been to the Hall for a short visit – poor Edward was still shaking as she had been full of ideas for their wedding some seven years hence – but her real reason for visiting had been to inform the men that her elder brother was definitely plotting something and soon, so they needed to be ready. She knew that it would likely be before the coming Sunday as they had some relation of her mother's coming that day and he would be required to be in attendance. For a short person she could be quite terrifying, so Jamie agreed to station himself in Knollsmere, the small hamlet south of Fraser's and Chatton's cottage. It had an excellent view of Hampton and the quiet riverside path that young Odin would likely take on his great adventure, as well as a footbridge over the river like the one to Charlton. 

Luckily Jamie only had to wait until the Friday before he saw his quarry approaching, most notably not wearing his distinctive brown hat of which he was usually so proud. The soldier hurried down to the footbridge and intercepted the boy just after he had moved out of sight of his home village. 

“Sir?” Odin asked fearfully.

“Your escapade ends here, my friend!” Jamie said firmly, his hand on his dagger in warning. “Quick march!”

MDCXLVI

He took the boy back to the Hall rather than send him to face his unknowing parents. He would be in enough trouble with Thunor who would know of his actions and, being a little sister, would milk them for all they were worth for most of the next decade if not longer. Jamie did maybe feel a little sorry to see the boy tremble when he found himself standing in front of the two men in the study, but he had brought this on himself.

“Speak”, Stephen said. “We shall not tell your parents of your escapade, but we need to know. And be honest – if we later find out that you have lied to us, then we will have to let them know. I doubt that your mother would be happy.”

"Your grandmother might even write a story about it!" Jamie warned.

Odin gulped in terror and spoke quickly.

“The king plans to leave first thing this morning”, he said. “He wanted a boy to race past the guards at the gate as a distraction, even though he is in disguise as a servant.”

“Is anyone with him?” Jamie asked.

The boy nodded.

“Two gentlemen, sir” he muttered.

“Do you know where he is going?” Stephen asked.

“He said that he might make for London.”

Jamie suddenly stepped closer to the boy. 

“But you know something else”, he pressed. “What is it?”

The boy gulped, but answered.

“The Frog who talked to him one time I was there”, he said. “They spoke in French but I recognized some of the words. The king asked him to go to the Scots, sir, and see if they would welcome him.”

The two men looked at each other. _Newark._

MDCXLVI

**May 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“It has been a week since all hell broke loose”, Jamie sighed, “and parliament has strained every sinew to find him. Where can he be?”

“Perhaps he did go to London but changed his mind”, Stephen said, opening his letter. “This is from Diana. Hopefully she has some news, apart from how many members of parliament have died of stress!”

He opened and read the letter.

“Very curious”, he said. “Her contacts report the king in two places, first at Hillingdon in Middlesex and then at some place called Downham¹ in Norfolk. I suppose he went to the former thinking that he might get into London in some way – as hopelessly optimistic as ever! - but going via East Anglia seems a funny way to reach Newark.”

“Not that funny”, Jamie said. “I know of Downham as I served with a fellow from that side of the county in Germany; it lies south of the port of Lynn which as we know is a rare area of Royalist support in that part of the world. Perhaps the king is hoping to get a boat from there to the Continent?”

“If he succeeds then never mind stress; the shock of that would likely kill off several of my fellow members!” Stephen said grimly.

MDCXLVI

**May 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The official news reached them only days later. Stephen sighed.

“The king has surrendered himself to the Scots at Southwell, not far from Newark”, he said. “He is clearly aiming to win them to his cause and to get another army to fight for him.”

“My countrymen would not be so foolish!” Jamie said firmly.

“Against an ungrateful parliament which has not honoured the Covenant with them, held their pay back and failed to pursue any real Presbyterian changes?” Stephen asked dryly. “Are you sure?”

Jamie scowled. He hated it when his lover was possibly verging on correct as that meant he would have to fuck him double-hard to stop him from... what was his point again?

Whatever. He had a sassy nobleman to fuck hoarse!

MDCXLVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Now Downham Market, eleven miles south of King's Lynn where the king might indeed have been able to get boats to either Scotland or the Continent. In Downham he stayed in a house on the site of what is now the Swan Inn._


End file.
